The Profound Bond
by Serie11
Summary: Dean is an FBI agent from the SPN unit, who professionally hunt all over the USA. Everyone knows that angels exist, and Dean grudgingly acknowledges their existence. Until overnight, his world is turned upside down when a garrison of angels descend on the FBI headquarters in Phoenix, Arizona. Extended summary, characters and warnings inside. Destiel
1. The Scene Is Set

Summary: Dean is an FBI agent from the SPN unit, who professionally hunt all over the USA with encouragement from the government. Everyone knows that angels exist, and while he had never laid eyes on one himself, Dean grudgingly acknowledges their existence. Until overnight, his world is turned upside down when a garrison of angels descend on the FBI headquarters in Phoenix, Arizona. Partnered with the arrogant and socially oblivious angel Castiel, Dean must get past his ingrained fear of the supernatural, and the painful memories that Castiel pulls to the surface. But when the angels appear to have a secret agenda, Dean's budding relationship with Castiel is put to the test, and the two of them have to choose what's most important to them - family, or duty.

Characters: Dean Winchester, Castiel, Sam Winchester, Charlie Bradbury, Victor Henriksen, Annie Hawkins, Ash, Garth Fitzgerald IV, Rufus Turner, Krissy Chambers, Jo Harvelle, Madison, Pamela Barnes, Missouri Moseley, Jessica Moore, Balthazar, Anna Milton, Uriel, Zachariah, Samandriel, Meg Masters, Bobby Singer, Ellen Harvelle, Bill Harvelle, Alastair, Kathleen Hudak, Diana Ballard

Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester, Charlie Bradbury/Original Character

Warnings: Graphic Dipictions of Violence, Rape, Underage sex (not in the story but it's mentioned)

Chapter One

Sipping his coffee, Dean turns a page of the newspaper he has in front of him. There are at least ten others in a stack beside his toast, and while Charlie might sing the praises of the internet, Dean prefers searching for anything unusual the old-fashioned way. Even if it takes longer.

Flipping the last page over, Dean quickly scans it. After making sure there is nothing there, he places it on the pile next to him. There is nothing there, which means that his thirteen subscriptions to various papers from all around the country that had come in today had been a bust. And he had spent nearly an hour looking through them.

Checking his watch, he jumps slightly at the time. Dean grabs his keys, checks the knives and various lock-picking agents he had stashed about his body to make sure they were there, and leaves his apartment, putting all of the security in place. No matter how many times Krissy or Annie tried to convince him to get his own place,Dean likes his apartment just fine. It isn't small, but it isn't large either, and he still gets all the sounds of other people moving about the building. It makes him remember that other people are out there, just living their lives. It reminds him of why he did what he did. That, plus he has a good view of Phoenix's downtown, with the mountains in the background.

Driving the Impala down the streets through the early morning traffic is as annoying as ever, though Dean reins in his patience enough that he doesn't just get out of the car and arrest the driver in front of him. The three times he had done it, Rufus hadn't been impressed, and he hadn't been assigned a job for a month each time. Besides, being an idiot wasn't a state offense. Although it should be, Dean muses darkly as the car cut him off _again_.

Parking the Impala in the secure parking below the office was as trying, like usual. These bends shouldn't be that sharp. Just because his baby was longer than most cars didn't mean they had to go and put in turns that a Prius would have trouble getting around.

Resolving to take it up with Rufus again, Dean smiles at Krissy on the way through the doors.

"Good morning Krissy. We enjoying being here this early?"

Dean gets a groan in response. Really, being an intern sucked, because you had to get here when the first worker was here, and Dean swore sometimes that Rufus and Charlie never left. One of them was always here, sipping at their coffee or hacking into some database from some country Dean's never heard of. He's pretty sure it's illegal, but some advantages of working for the FBI is that you can bend the rules sometimes. Or most of the time, Dean's pretty sure in Charlie's case. He didn't think that donation by that selfish millionaire bastard looked legit. But at least she's 'using her powers for good' as stated by Charlie herself. Dean had seen Rufus make a face in the background, but Garth and Ash had just laughed. Dean was pretty sure that Charlie and Ash had a whole 'we hackers stick together' thing going on, but you could never be sure what was going through either of their heads.

Victor and Annie were already sitting at their desks, and Dean could hear typing sounds coming from the computer lab, so Charlie was probably here as well.

Jo bounds over, giving Dean his second coffee in an hour, and then walks around to the others, giving them their coffee as well.

Logging on was as tedious as normal, and by the time he has brought up the documents from yesterday, Ash and Garth stumble in. Dean has no idea how either of them had gotten qualified enough to work here, but it probably has something to do with Ash's computer skills and the way that Garth seems to be unable to die. Seriously, the dude must be the luckiest one on the planet.

Filling out reports is the bane of Dean's existence, but to work here with all of its benefits and steady pay, it has to be done.

"So here is where you fill out how many people were affected by whatever nasty we killed. It's purely your opinion, but it helps the high ups gauge the damage bill and how much we get paid."

Jo nods, soaking up the information. She is nearly ready to become a solid member of the team, and stop fetching them coffee in the morning. Then that will be Krissy's job. Dean smiles slightly at the thought.

"This is where you fill in how much ammo was used, or if you broke any equipment, so it can be replaced. How much holy water, was there any one time items used, stuff like that. If anyone was killed while we were on case we put their names here, so their families can get some compensation. If any hunters were also on the case, then we state that too."

"Like mom?"

"Yeah, like Ellen. This is where you put how much you spent while out, on motels mainly." Dean continues to lecture Jo about the ins and outs of the forms, letting his mind wander while he does it. It is a mind numbing task, and he can see Jo struggling to memorize all the form's requirements.

"Don't sweat it. If you need any help filling out the forms, then you can ask any of us and we'll show you. It took us all a few months to get them as well. When are you going for your FBI normal unit training?"

"In a few weeks. My God, I'm so freaked out about it."

"Are you following that schedule I set out for you?" It included gym hours and what to work on, what she should be eating and some pre-studying. "It should have you well prepared."

"Yeah, I'm following it. It seems a bit extreme though."

"Jo, that's nothing compared to what you'll be going through in a month."

"Great," Jo mutters.

"I remember my course. It must have been the worst six months of my life." Annie, always one to put a positive spin on things, cuts in from her desk. Jo pales slightly. It was a well-known and well-played upon joke that Jo is dreading her FBI training unit, but everyone in the office silently supports her campaign.

"You'll do fine. Ignore the rest of them, they're just giving you a hard time." Jo raises an eyebrow at Dean, as he was usually the first one to give her grief. He shoots back a 'shut it' expression and she smiles.

"Whatever you say Dean."

Jo bounds off before Dean can say anything else on the subject. Sighing quietly to himself and returning to his task, he set his shoulders and worked through reports for the rest of the day.

Nearing the time where Dean would start to consider calling it a day, Ash comes up with more paper stacked in his arms. Dean almost gets out his lighter and sets the pile alight before Ash even says anything about what it is, but he restrains himself.

"What is it?"

"Rufus just gave me some stuff for you to fill out on how defensible Phoenix is from aerial attack." Ash must have seen Dean's face, because he nods. "I have no idea why they want this, but Rufus says that it comes from high up on the food chain, if you know what that means. He also said that he'd like it as soon as you could complete it."

"Why me?" Dean mutters under his breath as he takes the stack from Ash. He knows why. The others might be better at researching, or getting information from people, but Dean is good at fighting, and he knows Phoenix better than the back of his hand.

Dean is no stranger to staying back at the office for late nights, but when Charlie leaves and he can hear Krissy's snores coming from the room outside, he decides to go home and sleep off these ridiculous questions. Aerial attack? What the fuck? Deciding that he doesn't want to contemplate planes or how his stomach wants to empty itself just by thinking about them, he puts the papers in one of his pockets for unfinished work next to his computer, logs off, picks up his stuff and wakes Krissy.

"Whaa?" She slurs out. Dean looks at the clock on the wall behind her. Just past two. He's had later nights.

"Come on kid-o. I'll drop you off at your house."

Supporting Krissy slightly as they walk down to the car park, Dean opens the passenger door to the Impala and sits Krissy down in it. Making a mental note to tease her about drooling on his car tomorrow, he cruises through the almost empty streets towards where he knows Krissy lives. She wakes up by the time that he had arrive at her house, and she grins at him with a whispered "Thanks," before she gets and walks towards her front door.

Watching to make sure that she unlocks the door and is inside before he pulls away, Dean tries not to think of his bed and his early call time in the morning. Sometimes he does think that it would be easier if he just slept at the office, but he's also certain that if a room where you could sleep in the office was supplied, Rufus would never leave and Charlie would stay most of the time as well.

Dumping his bag on the kitchen counter when he gets home, he checks his calendar for tomorrow, and groans when he sees that today was a designated Sam-calling day. Sam would never let him hear the end of it after he was so strict about their schedule.

Although since he never missed a call, Sam would probably be freaking out. Looking at the digital clock that is on the stove, Dean reluctantly admits that twenty to three isn't an appropriate time to be calling anyone.

Stripping off his clothes, Dean checks his alarm and tumbles into the embrace of sleep.

_Beep beep beep beep bee-_

Dean slams his hand down on the clock, stopping the most annoying sound in all of existence mid-tone. Getting up at 6:40 meant that he had somehow gotten his four hours of sleep in, but it didn't feel like it. Dean could feel the day of doing nothing put paperwork weighing on him, and he hopes that something will come up today that he can just get in and kill.

But first things first. He showers, eats a few eggs and dresses. Walking down the flights of stairs, he holds down the 1 on his phone, speed-dialling Sam.

"Dean? Are you okay?" Sam's voice comes through after the first ring, and Dean wonders if his younger brother has been clutching onto the phone waiting for him to call.

"Yeah Sam, I'm fine. I just forgot to call yesterday. The asshats at the office thought it would be a good idea to laden me down with every form under the sun."

Dean hears Sam's sigh of relief, muffled as it was. When he speaks next, the younger Winchester's voice is light and teasing. "Wow. Mr Never Let A Week Pass Without A Call forgets? Is the world ending? Has Phoenix burned down?"

Dean smiles at his brother's gentle ribbing. "Whatever. Bitch."

All he gets is a "Jerk," in response.

Putting the phone on speaker when he gets into the Impala, Dean asks his normal questions about Sam's week. Sam, geek that he was, is all too happy to rant about his latest case – some business who was suing after a poltergeist tore up a month's worth of goods and nearly destroyed the shop. As it is only a small business, apparently this is a big thing, but Dean doesn't know enough about Sam's lawyer stuff to really understand what his brother is going on about. He just listens to the rise and fall of his voice, and basks in the certainty that his younger brother is safe.

"Are you even listening?"

"'Course Sammy. Some business person is trying to blame some gardener for disturbing a grave in an attempt to get money out of his employers. You add anything to the archives this week, or are you too engrossed in your gardener hate story?"

Dean can nearly hear the blush that comes over the silence in the phone. "No, I'm trying to prove that the gardener knew nothing about the grave and rebutting Adam's arguments. The kid's pretty quick."

"Well get onto it. The government doesn't pay you to translate century old grimoires for you to sit around on your ass and do nothing."

"I'll get onto it Dean."

"Good. I hate paging through those horrible old books."

While he listens to his brother go off on a tangent as to how useful those 'horrible old books' were to his work, Dean parks the Impala and makes his way up to the fifteenth level.

"Sounds great Sammy. Look, I'm at work, so – "

"Ring if I want to, if not there's the scheduled one at the end of the week. I know Dean. I've got this."

"Okay then Sam. I'll talk to you later."

"Bye Dean."

At the click of the phone that signals the end of the call, Dean lowers the phone from his ear and nods to Krissy at the desk outside the door. Passing inside, Garth and Ash both say good morning and Dean greets Annie and Jo before sitting down at his desk.

He's just filling in the last of the forms on the ridiculous aerial questionnaire when Victor walks in.

"Anyone up for a good-old wolf hunt?"

There was a pause as everyone raises their heads, then a loud chorus of 'Yes's and 'You bet's and Dean's yell of "You're not killing anything without me!"

Everyone looks over at him questioningly, he shrugs. "I've been itching for something to hunt for the last week."

"I got a tip-off from Caleb of a pack of werewolves over in Virginia. It's probably going to need all hands on deck."

Dean is already heading over to Rufus's office, report in hand. When he knocks, he only has to wait a second for the "Who is it".

"Dean."

"I hope you have that report." Was the only answer he receives.

Taking that as permission to come in, Dean opens the door and hands the report to the leader of the SPN team. "I guessed some of the heights of the buildings, but it should be mostly accurate. No idea why you wanted an aerial attack plan though. Who's going to want to send planes against Phoenix?

"It's not your place to question the orders boy." Rufus' gruff voice says.

"Victor just came in with a tip-off from Caleb about a werewolf pack in Virginia. He said that he'll need all hands, so everyone's packing up so we can get ourselves some wolf skins."

"Fine. Just remember to get their teeth and tails if you can. If Pamela hears that you went up against a pack of wolves without it she'll have all our skins."

Dean winces at the image of the angry psychic. "Noted. I'll tell the others."

Rufus turns his attention to the reports, a dismissal if there ever was one. Turning, he leaves the office.

"Did we get an a-okay from the boss?" Annie asks.

"Yeah, but he said that we need to get some teeth and tails for Pamela."

Annie winces and Dean can basically see the thought process of thinking about the physic. "Yeah, okay. You wanna call up Sam, see if he wants to tango with some werewolves as an after work recreational activity?"

"Yeah, I was thinking of calling him up. He'd only have a short drive, as opposed to our trek. I know that he gets sick of transcribing all his texts."

"I thank God for his translation of texts every day," Charlie shouts from across the room.

"Do we have a more definite place than just Virginia?

"Blacksburg."

"Sounds good. We leave after lunch?"

There is another chorus, this time of 'Sure's and 'Yep's.

Dean goes and reviews the path he'll have to take to get to Blacksburg. Realising that they will be gone for over a week, more if Sam convinces him to come up to DC with him, he says his goodbyes and travels back to his apartment.

Cleaning out his fridge of all the perishables, he carries them down the hall to Chuck's apartment.

Knocking, he waits for the short and usually scruffy man to open the door.

"Who is – oh, Dean, hey. Not expecting you to come round, is something up?"

"We're heading down to Virginia to get rid of a werewolf pack. Can you eat my perishables?"

"Yeah, yeah sure, I can do that." Dean smiles slightly at Chuck's extended sentences. He had saved Chuck from the depths of a cave where a demonic cult that hadn't been fake had been preparing to sacrifice him. Taking care of the cult and saving a civilian in the process was usually something that Dean was happy about, but when it turned out that Chuck lived down the hall from him he resigned himself to Chuck's almost hero-worship that he had to put up with every time he visited. It was useful, however, to have someone to watch his apartment, grab his mail and get rid of his food whenever he had to go away suddenly. As Chuck knew about the supernatural world that most people were oblivious to, he didn't have to hide or explain his strange hours, what he did for a job and why he was away so much, like he would have had to do if he trusted someone who didn't know about the supernatural world to do the things that Chuck did.

"Can you get my mail and watch the apartment?"

"Yep, sure, no problems."

"Awesome. I'll see you 'round Chuck."

The shorter man nods and closes the door behind Dean as he leaves.

Dean walks back into his apartment, changes into flannel and jeans, and set up the security, grabbing a few hundred dollars in cash and some of his personal weapons including the Knife, before closing up.

The ride through the city is nice, quieter than usual, and Dean soaks up the suburban sprawl, since he wouldn't see it again for another week. Parking the Impala outside instead of the secure parking, as they were leaving in less than an hour, Dean catches the lift up to the SPN floor of the high-rise building. He is greeted with the comforting sounds of arsenals being restocked, silver bullets being checked and wolfsbane being dealt out into zip-lock bags.

Dean grabs a velvet pack of 50 silver bullets and tucks it into his coat pocket, taking his Glock and sheathing it into the holster at the small of his back. Taking a shotgun and another handheld pistol, he looks around to see everyone ready. Leading was his area of expertise when Rufus wasn't around, and everyone was looking at him to get this show on the road.

"Everyone got everything?" They all nod. "Charlie, extra silver bullets, silver knives and the silver swords?"

"Yes, yes and yes."

"Annie, we got enough wolfsbane?"

"Enough to put their nose out of commission for the next few months."

"Victor, the copy of the report Calen gave to everyone?"

Victor silently hands out the pieces of paper.

"Ash, directions to Blacksburg?"

"Yes I do Dean."

"Good. Everyone choose your cars, and wave goodbye to our interns." The hunters all turn to Krissy and Jo and wave.

"This is shit. I should be allowed to come." Jo complains.

"When you get your training over and done with Jo. You get a break from us, you should be happy."

Both of the interns roll their eyes.

Charlie and Garth end up in the Impala, with Victor and Annie riding with Ash.

Choosing a cassette tape at random, Dean grins when Metallica came on. Charlie rolls her eyes and Garth just put on his sunglasses and was soon snoring in the backseat.

Having Ash's monster four-wheel drive constantly in front of him limits Dean's viewpoint of the road, but he doesn't mind all that much. With his music around him, the soft sounds of Garth snoring and Charlie's head on the window, looking out as the city boundaries slowly turn to countryside, Dean let himself feel a moment of peace.

It's on the fourth morning that they arrive at Blacksburg. Sam's waiting at one of the local diners, backpack at his feet, and each partnership takes a table to themselves, not giving any hints that they all know each other. That way if one of them gets in trouble, they can have back up without the assailant knowing that they have back up.

Charlie sits with Dean, sliding into the seat beside him and opposite Sam. On the cases that she takes, which aren't many, Dean and Charlie partner up. Victor and Annie work together, with Annie being one of the hunters that took out the wendigo that ate Victor's mother, and offered him a position in the SPN unit if he could cope with the training program. Victor was tough, and it surprised nobody that he aced the training.

Garth and Ash team up because no one else could stand working with their eclectic personalities for long. They complement each other, and Garth's agreeable attitude went well with Ash's laid back personality. That, plus the fact that both just hid their hard working skills on Saturn, where only they could find them, and only if they wanted to. Dean was just glad that apparently they were easy to get to, since switching between hard working and taking it easy happened quickly and often.

Dean prefers to work alone, or with his brother, but Charlie wasn't a bad alternative.

"Sam! Always good to see you little bro. How's the family holding up?"

"Hi Sam," Charlie adds.

"Hey guys. Jess is good, only a few months to go before we get our little one."

"Is she being more annoying than usual? I told you she'd get more annoying than usual."

"Dean, I'm pretty sure she has a right to be annoying! Far out, she _is_ pregnant."

Dean shrugs his shoulders slightly at Charlie's comment. "Maybe. We can only know if he tells us."

Sam sighs. "Yeah, she is getting more…" He trails off, at a loss for words.

"More Jess?"

"Yeah, more Jess."

"You guys know that that makes no sense right?"

The brothers shrug, and Charlie shakes her head.

"Hello, what can I get you fine people this morning?" The waitress comes up and gets out her notebook and pen, reading to take down their orders.

"Coffee, black."

"A Greek salad and a glass of water please."

"Mocha with chocolate thanks."

The waitress nods and goes to talk to Annie and Victor.

"Sam, I just want to thank you for translating all the texts that you send over. Seriously, I love you for it."

Sam rubs the back of his neck, smiling slightly. "It's Kevin that does most of the work really. But thanks, I'll tell him that our efforts are going to good use."

"Oh they are. A couple weeks ago, Garth and Ash were up in Wyoming, and they…"

Dean lets the story fade into the background, instead looking out the window and watching the people pass by. There was a man across the street, wearing a tan trench coat, who was just standing there and watching the diner with his hands in his pockets. Dean narrows his eyes and is about to say something when a truck trundles by, and by the time Dean can see the other side of the street the man is gone. Pushing it out of his thoughts, he turns back to the conversation to hear Sam asking about the werewolves.

Dean hands him a copy of Caleb's report, and looks over it again himself. In the two full moon's before the cycle starts again tonight, there have been quite a few killings and people found with their hearts missing. Then it went quite last month, and Caleb comments that he thinks it's because they just turned people last month. He estimates there to be somewhere between 20 and 40 werewolves – not something to laugh at. In fact, Dean wonders if there are any hunters that are in the area.

Sam whistles lowly. "Well I get why you called me. This is some intense stuff Dean."

"You can say that again," Dean mumbles over the rim of his coffee, flashing the waitress a smile as she puts down Sam's health crap and Charlie's nearly hot chocolate. "You still in?"

Sam looks at him like he's crazy, so Dean takes that as a yes. "Just checking. You know, with the whole father thing."

"We've faced worse."

"Not much worse. Besides, no judgement here."

Sam raises an eyebrow but doesn't say anything else, just stabs his salad.

Dean drinks the rest of his coffee in one go, and places the mug down on the table next to him. "So what's our game plan?"

Sam looks around at the other teams, with their heads bent together, drinking their respective beverages. "Don't you want to wait to talk until we're all together?"

"We talk about the problem separately so we all get different ideas, and then we come together and combine what we've come up with so that we get the best outcome possible. It was my idea," Charlie unabashedly preens, and Dean huffs out a breath of laughter.

"'S true. She came up with it."

Sam looks suitably impressed, and Dean leans back in the booth, stretching to get the cramps from driving all night out of his back.

"We're probably going to be up all night for the next three or so nights, so I suggest that we move to a nocturnal schedule. We've already started, or Ash and I did, last night when we drove all night to get here, but you guys are going to have to make yourselves sleep today so you don't fall down from exhaustion tonight." Sam nods and Charlie groans lowly.

"Great," she mutters.

"Then we'll have to find where the werewolves are hiding out. If they know if they're werewolves or not, if they're together even outside their time of month. And we need to know what they're planning."

"That's a lot of research," Sam remarks, titling his head.

"We can manage. Anything to add?" Sam and Charlie shake their heads. "Then you ready to go?"

Sam shoves the last of his salad in his mouth while Charlie drinks her mocha. Ash and Garth are still talking, but from their expressions Dean's going to guess that it's not about work. Annie and Victor are sitting quietly, finishing their drinks. "Everyone else's nearly done. I'm gonna go pay."

Dean stands and weaves between the tables towards the cashier. He flirts with her while he's paying, and wishes for a second that he wasn't working a case right now, so he could take the time to get to know these women a bit better. But oh well, he smiles when she wishes him a good day, and waves for Sam and Charlie to follow him out the door, knowing that the others will follow soon enough.

It's while they're walking towards the Impala that the girl approaches them. She's tall, has long dark hair, and walks purposefully up to grab Dean's arm.

Dean freezes with his hand halfway to the gun tucked into the back of his pants. The only reason he doesn't draw is because they're in a street full of civilians, and the girl doesn't seem to want to kill him. A novelty.

"Hey," she says.

"Hello," Dean warily says back.

"Are you one of the hunters?"

This puts all of them on edge, looking at the girl to see how she knows about hunters.

"I'll take that as a yes. Your cars the Impala, right?"

When Dean nods slowly, she walks ahead to where she's parked, opens the door and slides in the back.

When Charlie clears her throat, Sam looks at her. "Okay I know don't go on many hunts but is that normal?"

They say "No," at the same time.

"Just checking," she mutters.

With nothing else to do, they walk over and sit in the Impala as well.

"Well don't you guys have a hotel or something yet?"

"We only just got here," Charlie tells her.

"Oh. Then 'I recommend the Red Rose. If you drive two streets up, turn left, and go along that road, you can't miss it. I'm Madison, by the way."

Dean looks sceptically at Charlie and Sam when they tell her their names, but he reluctantly offers up his own. She nods and mouths them to herself as if she's memorizing them. Putting the Impala into drive when Sam pokes him, he grudgingly follows Madison's directions.

"So how did you know we were hunters?"

"The outfit." Dean looks at them and realises that they're all wearing plaid. "The way that you sat with your friends in the diner, and how they're following us now. I don't usually see hunters in such big groups, but you definitely need one for all the crap that's going down in this town in the next few days."

"What do you know about what's happening in the next few days?" Sam asks sharply.

Madison laughs. "Honey, I'm a werewolf."

They're pulled in at a red light so she gets Dean's gun pointed at her as well.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't shoot you right now," Dean says, looking at Madison while also keeping an eye on the traffic. When the light changes he reluctantly puts the gun down and continues driving.

"Same reason that you haven't shot me yet. You need info, I can tell you that info."

"Why would you want to help us?" Charlie asks, and Sam nods, like it's an interesting question. "Aren't they your family?"

Madison spits out the window, not looking where it lands. "I hate what I am. And Bret and his group are no family of mine, although we might be the same species. I don't want anyone to be killed or changed in this town any longer, and all they're planning is to do is kill everyone they don't change. No one should have to live through what I do every month."

"Gives a whole new meaning to the phrase 'time of the month', Dean muses under his breath. Madison still hears him though, and bears her teeth at the words.

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't make any werewolf jokes."

"Yeah, I can do that," Dean says.

"Dean," Sam hisses at him while shooting him a bitchface. Slowly Charlie and Sam sheath their guns, a gesture of trust.

They park in the parking area of the Red Rose, and Sam goes to book rooms for everyone. Madison leans up against the Impala, and Dean barely contains the urge to tell her to get her paws off his baby before she wishes her paws had been anywhere but. Charlie shoots an amused glance at him and waves over the other two teams as they come into the car park.

While she introduces them and repeats what Madison had told them, Dean waits for Sam to get back from booking the rooms. When he sees the tall shaggy man coming out of the front office, he smiles slightly to himself, before starting to pelt Madison with questions.

She knows most of what the pack is doing, mainly because she had travelled with Bret for a while, hoping that he would embrace her 'peaceful' lifestyle and lock himself up near her every full moon when they turn. As soon as it was apparent that he had no interest in doing that, she learned all she could of what he planned to do and then bailed as soon as she could.

"Unfortunately he had decided that I was his perfect mate, so he continued to chase me all over. I finally was able to throw him here, but I have to stick around, otherwise he'll know that I left and he'll be able to trace my scent from where I leave town. So I'm stuck, hoping that he won't find me but knowing that if I leave he'll probably find me faster. All the while I get to watch as he builds his army. I know that he has nearly forty wolves under his command, and all of them know what they are. Not many of them are happy about being turned, but when you've just undergone your first change and you find an alpha standing over you… Well you need to follow someone for the first year or so. And after that you're so imprinted that you wouldn't want to leave anyway. It's a win-win situation for Bret. The only reason he was going to mess this place up was because I was here, and I was going to leave today, but then I saw that you guys were here, and that you probably needed some info on what he's planning. So here I am."

Ash and Garth were nodding, while Annie and Victor look unconvinced. But that was probably just Annie's old school training and the fact that a wendigo ate Victor's mother. Dean didn't trust her exactly either, but he was willing to use her for her information, and kill her once all this was over and done with.

"Okay then guys. We should all hit the sack, and be ready to get up around five. That'll give us time to prepare and go over our strategy plan before heading out before the moon rises." Sam distributes room keys to everyone, and after everyone assents and starts moving off to their rooms, Dean turns to Sam, only to see him giving her a room key of her own hesitantly. She smiles and thanks him loud enough that Dean can hear, and walks off with a sway to her hips that Dean can't help but appreciate. He picks up his duffel from the Impala, throwing Charlie's to her.

"Really? You gave her a room key?" Dean asks as they go past the front lady and towards where the rooms are.

"Well what else was I meant to do?"

"You don't trust her, do you?"

Sam hesitates before shaking his head and Dean swears silently. "Seriously Sammy? We're just using her for her information alright?"

Sam looks like he's going to pull out a bitchface for the second time that day before he nods and starts walking towards the last room in the corridor. Dean knows already that that would be the one that Sam would have picked for them, so he waits next to it while Sam unlocks the door.

Dean puts his bag on one bed while Sam puts his backpack on the other. "You have no idea how hard it was to convince Jess to let me come down here man. I mean, the last hunt I had was a few months ago, but it was also –"

"Before she told you she was pregnant?"

"Yeah. So she thinks that my hunting days were over, and she barely tolerates my translating of the texts. I'm sure that if it didn't bring in such a healthy pay check she would insist that I quit that too."

"Well she does have a point you know Sam. She doesn't want me ringing her and telling her that you're dead, or something equally nasty."

Sam scowls a him. "I thought you said no judgement?"

"No judgement, no judgement." Dean quickly adds. Sam smiles slightly then sighs.

"I don't want to do this full time, like you do, but I also don't want to stop. Saving people, hunting things… It's like the family business, you know? I want to be a part of that, the whole idea, the whole helping thing. But I also want to have a home, a family."

"You know sooner or later you're gonna have to pick. And I don't exactly see you abandoning Jess and the little one for something that you don't even really want to do."

Sam sighs. "Yeah, I know. I'm just going to savour each hunt as we do them, you know?"

"We can bond over other things than killing stuff you know." Dean wonders over to the air conditioning unit, to see if he could get some warmer air going through.

"Probably. It's just that you're so far away, we live in DC, and you're in Phoenix, and you hate planes and I don't think it's good to take small children on them, doesn't that make them sick or something, and agh." Dean bangs the machine to see if it's just having a hard time starting up.

"I get what you mean Sam. We'll work it out, yeah? Just try to get some sleep. I already set the alarm."

Sam nods and gets under the covers. Dean bangs the air con one more time to see if it's going to work or not, and when it lets out a puff of air that he's fairly sure is colder than the room temperature and doesn't do anything else he gives it up as a lost cause.

Getting under the covers, he hopes he doesn't dream tonight.

_Red black screams chains knife glinting blood fire screams chains screams red blood laughing fear screams screams anger fasinati – _

Dean pulls himself out of the nightmare with a gasp. So much to hope for a peaceful rest. Sam is snoring away, and Dean checks the time. It's only half past three, so he takes a shower, trying to wash off the sweat he had woken up lying in and the bad feeling at the back of his throat and the guilt weaving itself just under his thoughts. He takes a shaky breath in, and leaves his head under the water of the shower, breathing through his mouth so he could stay there without choking.

When he finally got out Sam was already up, had probably been woken up by Dean taking a shower. Sam doesn't say anything, but he casts a knowing look at Dean, and that's almost worse. Dean wants to forget what happened to him, and having people around who know what his nightmares are about doesn't make it easier. Still, when he had needed somewhere to crash for a few months while he recovered, Sam had been there, and while he might have pushed and pried and eventually made Dean spill, Dean could see that it was all for his own good in the end. If he hadn't told anyone, he was fairly sure he would have either cracked or exploded, and he wasn't sure which one was worse.

Checking to make sure that his anti-possession tattoo was intact always helped, and he examines it before he put his shirt on. Like always, it was set over his heart, without any breaks in the lines. Letting out the breath he was holding, Dean pulls his shirt on, and proceeds to pack away as much as he could on him – silver bullet stashes everywhere, lock picks, extra small blades in his boots, pockets, in his sleeve, basically getting ready to go and kick some werewolf ass.

Sam came out, and also proceeded to kit himself out. Dean threw a packet of wolfsbane at him, and checks the time. It was quarter past four, so he guesses that the rest of his team would probably be up.

Victor and Garth were sitting together on their couch when Dean knocks, and he could also hear the shower running. "Are Annie and Charlie up?"

"I don't know. Haven't gone over there yet." Dean nods.

"I'll go and check then." The other two nod, and Dean turns to find the two women behind him, looking fully ready to go and face an army of wolves.

"Can you go and check if Madison's awake?" Dean asks Charlie.

"Sure."

"Okay guys, regroup in our room when you're ready okay?" When he gets nods of acknowledgement from them, Dean walks back to his room. Sam has the files up, and is looking over them.

"There's not really anything we can do until Madison tells us where the pack is meeting tonight, so we'll have to wait for her." Dean grunts in response, still not happy about working with a supernatural creature. "And I know how you feel about anything that isn't human, but I think we can trust her."

"Why Sam? Why do you think that? We've known her for under twelve hours. How is that any base on which to trust someone?"

"When she was telling her story… I don't know. There was something in her eyes, and you know that I used a few of my court tricks to trip up someone when they're lying, and she passed every one, even when I just made them into normal questions. She wasn't lying Dean, and I think she really wants her stalker out of the picture."

Dean sighed. "Well you're the one with the logic of a lawyer behind you, so whatever. I still don't want to be working with her though. And I know that some of the others don't want to be either."

"Then I guess it's a good thing that she's human ninety per cent of the time then. Just pretend that she's another one of the people that you need to save. She has a crazed pack of werewolves about to go after her Dean – how much more do you need?"

Charlie and Madison chose that moment to walk in the room. While Sam called her over to the table to discuss the where's and how's and when's of this werewolf pack, Charlie came and sat next to Dean.

"Do you have all your gear packed?"

"Yeah, and I checked that everyone else does too. We're ready to go and make Pamela happy."

"Good. You know she calls every time I decide to do something that she doesn't approve of? I swear, she's more tuned into our lives than some of us are. I'm pretty sure Missouri makes her do it, since she's always so tart on the phone, but that could be because there we're on equal ground. Without me looking at her, she doesn't have to think about what she's doing, and can psychic up however she likes."

Charlie raised her eyebrows, and thankfully decided not to ask _what_ exactly Dean had been thinking of doing when Pamela calls. Thank god for small mercies.

When Annie, Victor, Garth and Ash came in, looking armed to the teeth, Dean smiled. Sam looks up, and Madison sneezed repeatedly. Dean supposes that the wolfsbane was doing weird stuff to her nose.

"Okay guys, Madison has been telling me where the werewolves meet up, where they change and where she thinks they're going to attack tonight."

"Can we shoot her now?"

Madison swallowed but otherwise made no sound.

Sam looked impatient. "No, there's a door that she has to open for us. She's coming along, and no one is allowed to shoot her!"

There was an awkward shuffling, and Annie murmured "Sorry," under her breath for asking if she could kill Madison. Dean wasn't sure if she was apologizing to him or the werewolf.

"The warehouse where they gather to change would be my best bet of where to corner them." Sam pointed to a place on the map, and everyone crowds around. While everyone looks, Dean studied it for any other getaways that could be used. He had already looked and realised that this location would definitely be best.

"Okay guys. Annie and Victor, you're with Sam, Charlie and I. Garth and Ash, you'll wait here and here," Dean tells them, pointing at different places on the map, "And shoot anything furry that tries to escape. Cover the area in wolfsbane so they'll be disorientated if they get out, and then make sure it's a clean shot to the heart if you do shoot. A werewolf with a silver bullet in him is a _very_ angry werewolf, and you do not want one of those coming after you. They're quicker than normal, and don't care if you're going to kill them, they just run straight at you, and they want to kill you, and most of the time they succeed. Clear?"

Everyone nods, and Dean turns towards Madison. "You're going to be covering Sam. Do what he says, and maybe after all this, if you're both still alive, I won't shoot you." Sam looks like he's going to say something, but Dean silences him with a movement of his head. Sam did his classic bitchface at him, and Dean revels in the freedom of being the elder brother.

"We're going to need to get there before the moon rises, and that's in an hour. Everyone pick a car, Madison you're with me, and we're moving."

Everyone seems to decide that they wanted to stick to the same cars as yesterday, so Dean pulls out of the parking lot with Sam, Charlie and Madison in the Impala.

The drive takes twenty minutes, and they park two blocks away from the where the action would take place. Madison silently gets out of the car, making even Dean seem loud, and he could see her fighting her werewolf senses. Dean had warned her that if she turned on anyone during the night they would shoot her, and she had agreed that that was fair, but she was confident that she wouldn't as long as they didn't attack her first. Dean had said that they had no way of knowing who was who, and Madison had looked like she was wondering if this was a good idea. She had then gone over to her bad, pulled out seven large bottles of food colouring, and proceeded to drink them all. Apparently all they had to do now was not shoot the blue wolf, and she would be fine.

Annie and Victor came over and joined them while Ash and Garth walked towards their respective exits.

Crossing the street, Dean looked at the rapidly setting sun, and shook his head. As if he needed another reason to dislike winter.

Madison push open a door, and Dean hates to admit it, but he would have never spotted that by itself, and even if he had known that there was a door there he probably wouldn't have seen it. Madison put a finger to her lips, and Dean motions her to go forward. They knew how to do their jobs.

Coming out behind some shelves, Dean looks through the small space where a board had been torn out. Counting people, he saw thirty or thirty-two. He told this number to Sam, Annie, Victor and Charlie who all nodded. There were two path ways out of the doorway, and Madison touches his wrist and points upwards, making him see the ladder that went to the walks overhead. He motions for Sam and Madison to go up, and then shoos Annie and Victor onto the path away from the one that Charlie was standing at.

Dean pulls his gun out, checks that the others were safe where they were supposed to be, and followed the red haired lady around the side of the warehouse.

Dean knew they were in trouble when all sound ceased from the werewolves. The low talking stops, and the shuffling sounds of people walking were stilled. The first ripping sounds alerted them to what was coming, and Dean stops caring about stealth, and ran for the first place where he could shoot.

Changing into a werewolf apparently took some time, and before the unit had to deal with fully grown werewolves, Dean drops six, Charlie shoots four and between the others, another fifteen go down.

The only problem now is that they had finished their transformation, and there are still nine left.

Apparently the leader is one of the ones still alive, because he howls, and the others spilt up and charge at the two teams each side of the warehouse. Two ran towards the exit where Dean knew Garth was positioned at. Moving werewolves were a lot harder to kill than still ones, and Dean wasted two bullets, the wolves easily dodging around them.

The leader looks up, sees Madison who is very blue, and jumps for the walks. That was as much as Dean could see before his vision is filled with fur. Managing to shoot just before he becomes dinner, Dean still gets knocked over, but instead of teeth and claws going after him, it was just dead weight.

Heaving it off him was an effort, and he stands up in time just to see the other jump for Charlie. Unable to do anything, he watches as it neatly curved towards her… And was shot by a bullet from above. Grinning at his brother's competence, Dean helps a clawed Charlie up, and looks around to see Annie and Victor heading towards them, with Victor limping slightly, Annie supporting the younger man.

"You guys okay?" Dean calls out, concerned.

Annie nods. "I'm fine, Victor here got a wolf on his leg. I'm pretty sure the knees popped out and the ankle could be broken."

"And you?" Dean directs the question at Charlie.

"He put his claws through my arm, but if I die of anything it's going to be blood loss.

Dean nods, and pulls out some bandages from his first aid pocket, wrapping them around the claw marks. "Sam!" He calls out. "You okay?"

There's a huff of breath that came from above. "Only thanks to Madison. And you owe me one Charlie!" Charlie looks bemused.

"I'll pay for your drinks one time we go out."

"Sounds good."

"Everyone ready to go grab Ash and Garth?"

"What are we going to do with Madison?" Sam asks.

Dean doesn't ask about the chomping sounds he can hear from the walk above their heads, and he resolves not to go anywhere near where the female werewolf currently is. "Just leave her for the moment. She's no harm to anyone here."

They walk through the tunnel that the two werewolves ran through, finding one dead just out of the doorway and one lying a few feet past Garth, who was groaning slightly, and his arm looks like it had two elbows, not one.

"Damnit." Dean goes over to kneel next to Garth, who has fallen unconscious.

"Sam, can you go grab Ash?"

Sam leaves, and Dean looks over the break. "You really did a number on yourself, didn't you Garth? We'll get you somewhere where they can set this, and you'll be as good as new." Dean leans down to pick Garth up, trying to avoid moving the arm as much as he can. Garth still groans, and his eyes flutter.

"Dean? Where… the wolves…"

"We cleaned them all up. None left. We're taking you to the local hospital."

Dean always hated dealing with hospitals. They asked too many questions, they smelled funny and every one there was unhappy. And he especially didn't like it when he was the one conscious, because it meant that _he_ was the one who had to answer the questions. At least when he was lying in the bed he could pretend to be asleep when anyone came around.

Carrying Garth and putting him in the backseat of the Impala, he motions for Charlie to get in Ash's four-wheel drive, which Sam decides to drive when Ash threw his keys at him, rushing over to see what had gotten his partner this time.

Having Ash support Garth meant that Dean didn't have to be _really_ careful when he was driving, just careful. The adrenaline from the hunt was wearing off, and he was feeling every place where the werewolf had pinned his body to the ground.

"How's he doing?" Dean asks Ash, turning into the hospital.

"Okay. Unconscious." Dean smiles at the relief in Ash's voice.

"Good." Bringing the Impala to a stop, he parks her, and helps Ash take Garth out of the back seat.

Explaining to the hospital staff could wait until Garth was seen to. When they tried to put them in a queue, he flashed his badge in her face, the lady's eyes went wide, and she told them they would be the next seen to. Within twenty minutes Garth was gone, Victor was getting his ankle x-rayed, Charlie was getting stitches and Dean started having to answer questions.

He wrote down the medical information that they demanded, putting a well-used first name and no last name in the top of each. The hospital lady looked them over.

"These ain't their real names are they?"

"No."

"We need their real names to access their medical history."

"Everything you need is one the back of the sheets. And even if you had their real names, nothing would come up in your files. So stop asking questions, or I tell my superior how you have a waiting line in the emergency room."

The lady narrows her dark eyes. "All right. But you have to pay."

Dean slaps down a thousand dollars and went to sit next to Annie.

By the time morning came around, the three of them were fixed up. The doctors wanted to keep Garth for a couple of days, but Dean told him that they would collect the teeth and tails of the werewolves and come back for him. Garth looked happy, and Dean smirks ruefully, knowing that the worst part of the job was going to be the part that Garth was missing.

Gathering Sam, Annie, Ash and Charlie, Dean put them all into the Impala and drives them back to the warehouse. They find Madison snoring naked in a pool of blood, and Sam drapes his jacket over her.

"Ash and Charlie, get the tails. Sam and Annie, remember when you're collecting the teeth, don't let the teeth break the surface of the skin, or you'll be joining Madison in her furry dreams.

Pulling on the thick gloves they used to protect themselves from the teeth, Dean grabbed the pliers and waited for Annie to grab the first werewolf. The thick black blood spurts when Dean yanks out the first tooth, and he swears under his breath, hoping that whatever Pamela wanted these for, it was something that would be used for some good deed that would eventually make it back to their tab, because this was _messy_.

Dropping the teeth into a container that he had bought just for this purpose, Annie and Sam held up the wolf and held its jaws open as Dean pulled.

After Charlie and Ash had collected all the tails and had stored them safely and so that blood wouldn't get anywhere in the secret compartment in the boot of the Impala, Dean, Sam and Annie had only made it through ten of the werewolves. There were ten different containers for each different werewolf, as per the psychics instructions.

Working through the next four teeth pulling sessions, Dean stands up and tries not to let his stomach turn at the sight of blood covering his hands, even if they were underneath gloves.

"Okay, we're done here." Sam gives him A Look, and Dean turns his head so he could pretend that he didn't see it. Otherwise Sam might try to have a heart to heart or something. Madison steals Sam's shirt and slips off before Dean can decide if he really will let her go. Clever girl.

Sam finds her email address in the pocket of his jacket, which is bloodstained, but that's not something that Sam isn't used to.

They torch the building, and leave before the fire brigade gets there. Picking up Garth from the hospital wasn't easy – Dean had to intimidate three doctors, give the lady at the front desk a piece of his mind, and flash his badge twice to get his teammate out the door.

Garth was smiling slightly, high off whatever the hospital had pumped him full of, chuckling at the door handle of Ash's car. Ash and Sam look bemused, while Annie and Victor climb into the Impala, Victor's fractured ankle hindering him slightly.

"How's your arm?" Dean asks Charlie.

"Yeah, I looked at it and cleaned it when the doctor's wasn't watching with some holy water. It's not going to get infected, and in a week I can get the stitches out."

"You good to drive?"

"The four-wheeler?" When Dean nodded she continues. "Yeah, probably."

"Good. I want you to make Ash sleep, and you drive. Just follow the Impala, you'll be fine." Charlie nods her assent.

Dean throws the keys to Sam. "You got some sleep in the hospital. Now drive young padawan."

Sam smiles faintly and takes the keys. Getting in, Dean looks at the time. It's just past midday, and Dean feels like he could sleep for a week. He takes out the sunglasses he keeps in the glove box for just this occasion, and leans back in the chair, adjusting himself so he can sleep. The nightmares don't usually come when he's exhausted, and Dean once more ignores Sam's knowing Looks.

Sam sighs slightly, but safe in the knowledge that his brother won't bring up anything in front of his colleagues, Dean lets himself drift off to sleep.

Dean opens his eyes when he feels the rumble of the Impala's engine stop. Sam is getting out, and by the sound of things, they're in a pretty big city. It's past three, and Dean groggily sits upwards in his seat. Annie is asleep in the backseat, but Victor just nods at him.

Getting out, Dean stretches lazily, watching through blurred eyes as Sam comes back towards him. Charlie pulls up beside him, and she stretches as well when she gets out, before opening the door and nearly having to catch Garth as he tumbles out. She's saved having a Garth fall on her by Ash grabbing the back of his shirt, and holding him up until they can manoeuvre him down. Sam throws her a key, and Victor another. Holding up the last one, Sam beckons Dean towards the rooms.

"I'm surprised that they're even still open Sammy," Dean tells him, leaning against the wall next to the door while Sam unlocks it. Putting his bag of essentials at the end of his bed, he watches as Sam takes off his outer layers and shoes, leaving him in his boxers as he slides under the sheets.

"Aren't you gonna sleep?"

"Nah, I slept in the car. I'll look for a flight for you tomorrow, yeah?"

Sam sighs and Looks at him, and Dean brings out his laptop and connects to the motels wifi, pulling up an airport site. "Unless you don't actually want to go back up to DC so soon? Get a break from the wife?"

"No, I'll go. Jess would skin me if I bailed on her while she's pregnant."

"Okay then, rest up so you'll be ready to deal with her wrath when you get back."

Sam pulls the covers over his head, and mutters something. Dean flips the lights off, pulls a bottle of whiskey put of his bag, and hopes he doesn't fall asleep for a few hours.

When he finally does decide to go to sleep, Dean has found three different options of flights for Sam, has saved the pages where Sam will see them tomorrow, and has spent three hours surfing the net for anything weird. Finding nothing, he wonders if he could ask to go to the Roadhouse and drop by Bobby's for a few days, let Jo see her mum again before she goes into the gruelling program run by the FBI. He'll have to ask Rufus.

He's also had way too much time to think about why he's not asleep.

Deciding that he was done fighting the urge to sleep, Dean heaves his aching body up and on top of the covers. The alcohol would lessen the chances of any dreams, and since Dean was counting on getting back to a normal sleeping schedule, or at least as normal as it ever was for him, as soon as he could, he thought that he should sleep now rather than later.

Closing his eyes he slipped into sleep.

_Blood red black pain knife silver screams body fear blood screams death laughing blood red chains black black black black black black…_

Taking a deep shuddering breath, Dean thinks that maybe trying to sleep wasn't such a good idea. The dreams that ended in blackness were always the worst. Not gut-wrenching fear, but a kind of ice-cold numb dread. Opening his eyes, he immediately regretted it, the light stabbing his eyes and his mouth feeling like something had died in it.

"How much did you drink last night?" Sam's voice is too loud, and grating, and there's a thread of amusement running under the concern in his voice. He was probably alerted to the fact that Dean was awake by his groan.

"That bottle was full last night," Dean mumbles, although he doesn't think Sam hears.

He walks over to the small and rather disgusting bathroom, tries not to think about what the various stains could be and _no_ that was not a rat he just saw out of the corner of his eye, don't think about it, don't think about it.

Turning the shower on, Dean strips off the rest of his clothes and tries to wash the remnants of the dream away.

Sam had his bag packed by the time Dean got out. "You ready to go?"

"Can I get Annie to drop you off?"

"I was going to suggest that someone else did, since you're not fit for driving."

"Annie can take Ash's car. That way baby's not in danger." Dressing and walking down the hall to Annie and Victor's room was harder than it should have been, and when he knocks, Annie opens the door.

"What have I told you about your drinking boy?" She asks, pursing her lips at him.

"That it's not good for me and that it hinders my working ability," Dean recites.

"Such good advice; why don't you listen?" Annie cocks her head, and the silent truth hangs between them, but since Dean asked for no one to bring it up, they won't. However, that doesn't mean that Annie wouldn't hint and poke at it when she told him off about his drinking.

"Look, can you drive Sam to the airport? He needs to get back to Jess, something about him being gone for too long already. I'll owe you one."

"You already owe me ten Winchester, but I'll drive your brother."

Dean says good bye to Sam with a quick hug, and Sam whispers in his ear. "You've got to move on man. You can't let this rule you." Before getting into Ash's four-wheel drive and driving off, his hand raised in a wave that Dean returned.

He had drunk four glasses of water and ate some breakfast by the time Annie got back. Victor and Charlie decide they want to drive in the Impala while the others caught a ride with Ash.

Four relentless days of driving later, and Dean was opening his apartment door at two in the morning after he had dealt with Annie and Garth fighting over the proper way to deal with some obscure creature that Dean couldn't pronounce the name of. He's tired, sore from being run over by a werewolf, and had to take the bits and pieces to Pamela in the morning. They were sitting in his refrigerator, and were probably going to make his food taste like fur for the next two months.

He just wants to sleep.

But apparently the Universe was sending out a _fuck you_ because after being woken up three times by dreams, he decided to screw waiting, and picks up the large boxes from the space in the fridge he had just for them, and drove to the outskirts of Phoenix, where the two psychics lived. He would think that it would be rude to knock on someone's door at a quarter to five in the morning, but he reasoned that they would know he was coming.

Apparently, just because they knew he was coming didn't mean that they would be happy about it.

"Dean, you know I love you, but do you really have to come around before five o'clock?" Pamela still manages to do a great job of looking at him with her glass eyes, and currently they were conveying extreme annoyance.

"Sorry," Dean mutters. "I knew you wanted your things, and I couldn't sleep, so I decided not to make you wait anymore then you had to for them."

Pamela let out a breath, and Dena knew that when he said he couldn't sleep, she believed him. Being a psychic had upsides, and then it had downsides like being able to see into his head.

Pamela had told him that it was not something she was willing to try again, so he was safe from her mind reading abilities at least.

"Give 'em here. Thanks for these. Not very often you find fresh werewolf tails."

"I don't really want to know what you use them for, so please don't tell me."

"Aw, Dean, you don't know what you're missing out on."

"Yeah, and I really don't want to know," Dean replies, rubbing his head and then his eyes.

"You look horrible you know."

"I haven't slept in nearly two days. I'm entitled to look however I want to look."

Pamela raises an eyebrow at that. "Stay here for the night. Your energies looks like they needs a rest, and being here will do you wonders."

Dean smiles gratefully. "Thanks Pam."

As he was walking past her, she adds something. "Oh, and I already rang Rufus to tell him that you won't be going in tomorrow. Sleep as much as you need."

"Of course you rang Rufus," Dean scoffs. "I'll be out of your hair soon enough."

And yet as soon as he lays down in the guest bedroom, a place he had become familiar enough with over the years, enough to let his guard down, and closes his eyes, he's asleep.


	2. Meet The Angels

Chapter Two - Meet The Angels

Maybe it's just because he's exhausted, maybe it's because of Pamela's soothing, or maybe there actually is something that calmed him in this house, because he isn't woken by anything other than the clock next to his bed chiming lowly for midday.

Pulling some layers of clothes back on, Dean yawns, and proceeds to walk out to the kitchen, listening behind the living room door to make sure that there were no customers in there before he makes his way to where the cereal is stored in the pantry.

Feeling better than he had in a while, Dean eats the cereal while reflecting on his lack of a hangover.

It isn't usually this bad. He'd have the nightmares once or, if he was unlucky, twice a week, and it'd be one night of sleep that would be gone. The only times that it usually flared up was when they were dealing with a case where demons were involved, or if he saw any part of himself, especially his hands, covered in blood. If he was holding a tool as well they were usually worse. They were also aggravated if there were any supernatural creatures around.

He supposes he could blame them on the whole tooth pulling thing, but the dreams had picked up before that. For the last two weeks he had been getting hardly any sleep whatsoever, and he didn't know what to blame it on. The drinking was usually only something that he had to do after a nightmare, but it was turning into an everyday thing, even before he went to sleep.

Maybe Sam had been right to keep giving him Looks.

Pamela walks into the kitchen, brandishing a wooden spoon. "Sleeping Beauty awakes! You didn't need to sleep, huh?"

"Yeah yeah yeah, rub it in. It's just…" Dean hesitates, the instinct to avoid the subject of his dreams large and ever-present in his mind. But Pamela had been in there, she understood as much as anyone could ever understand, and she was just standing there, not judging, and if he chose not to say anything then she wouldn't hold it against him.

"Lately they've been picking up, for no reason whatsoever. Instead of once a week it's once a night and the only thing that helps is to drink, except that doesn't really help so I just drink and drink and still there's dreams and… I don't know. It sucks."

Pamela nods. "Sounds like you got a problem. Do you want some sleeping drafts? First time free, see if they work."

Dean smiles slightly. "Yeah Pam, that's be great, thanks."

Leaving the psychics house, Dean crosses to the Impala. Getting in, he drives back to the apartment to tie up the last loose ends of the hunt. He calls Sam, makes sure that he got back to DC safe and that Jess hasn't killed him. Sam claims he's fine, but Dean can hear the tired edge beneath his voice that he's sure is echoed in his. Thankfully Sam doesn't ask about why he is tired, and Dean hangs up relieved that his little brother is out of harm's way.

He goes and knocks on Chuck's door to let him know that he's back, that he doesn't have to take care of the apartment anymore and to say thank you for keeping an eye on it. Chuck's response is his typical rambling hero worship, and Dean huffs out a laugh at it.

Back in his apartment he inventories his weapons, and completes his section of the paperwork for the hunt and emails it to Charlie. She sends back a reply thanking him for it, and tells him that Garth and Victor have been taken off the team until they're fit for duty, which may be a few weeks, longer in Garth's case. Definitely after Jo leaves, which leaves them down three team members, and that's if you include Charlie.

Dean reflects on this as he pulls out his bag, which he had thrown on the bench, and unpacks it, putting some things in his washing pile and some in his wardrobe. He brings out his weapons, and begins cleaning and sharpening the swords, storing them safely, and hiding them in the safe places throughout the apartment where no one would find them even if they went looking for them. The one in the ceiling above the cupboard is the most hidden one, and Dean doesn't think that anyone who didn't know it's there could find it.

When he had finished unpacking everything, Dean starts to go through his very large stack of papers for any suspicious murders. He always kept the obituary page as well as any articles that looked like supernatural activity might be involved, filing them in the cabinet in the small room taking up space between the kitchen and the bathroom.

Filing and organising all of the papers from the ten days he was absent from the apartment that Chuck had meticulously collected is a mind numbing task, but also passes the time extremely quickly. Before he knew it the clock was chiming midnight, and he's looking dubiously at the bundle of plants that Pamela had given him.

Dropping one leaf of the plant in a glass of water, Dean lets it sit for fifteen minutes, as per Pamela's instructions, before he brushes his teeth and changes into clothes that were more accommodating for sleep. Instinctively he almost reached for the bottle of Jack sitting not-so-innocently on his kitchen counter before refraining. He would try Pamela's weird leaf thing, and if that didn't work then he would go back to the not so effective method of drinking himself into unconsciousness.

Pamela had said it would work for about six hours, and while that was more than Dean got most of the time, it still isn't the amount she wanted him to sleep. But Dean's life was busy, and cutting down on the hours he slept helped him to keep on top of things.

Dean opens his eyes groggily. Is there something he's meant to be doing? It felt like there was something he should be doing. He rolls over slowly, blinking owlishly, to check the time.

_6:01_

"Shit," Dean barks, trying to get up but getting his legs and feet tangled in his blankets and falling out of the bed instead.

Madly dashing around his apartment Dean left with his tie and shoes in his hand, without eating or brushing his teeth, only half of his usual gear on him and probably looking like a mess.

Luckily, the traffic was fine, and Dean gets there just on time, ending the most rushed twenty nine minutes he'd had that week.

"Just made it in time huh Dean?" Krissy smiles at him.

"Yeah, yeah, shut it short stuff."

"Victor's grabbing some breakfast in the cafeteria. You look like you haven't eaten anything yet. And Rufus was being _really_ cagey about something yesterday and this morning, and I'm pretty sure that he's down there as well. All the others were talking about something, but stopped when I came near. Jo doesn't know anything about it either, and it's starting to piss her off. Rufus must have told them about whatever he was being secretive about. Tell me when you find out?" Krissy puts on her most persuasive face. "It'll annoy Jo if I find out what it is before her."

Dean frowns. "Charlie told me that Victor's off until he can walk around without help from anyone or anything. And I don't think I'll be in Jo's good books if I tell you before her. Don't worry, I'm sure you'll find out soon enough."

"Yeah well Vic didn't get the message until I told him this morning when he limped in here. He said that he really didn't want to fight his way back through the city so soon after he did on his bum ankle. And yeah, I'm sure we'll find out, but we're always last." Krissy pouts. Dean can't really blame her. He would hate finding out information last.

"It's one of the things about being an intern. I'm going to go and find Victor – I'm starving. I'll see you around Krissy."

Krissy scowls at him, and Dean walks down the hall to the elevator where he could ride it down to the third floor, where the cafeteria was. The only bad thing about it is the fact that it is shared by every unit, so whenever they went they couldn't discuss anything about their job. Everyone seemed to like the excuse to talk about things that had no relation to what they did, but Dean just couldn't. He just didn't have anything that he did outside of what he did. Even Sam's job is related to it, so he couldn't even really talk about what his brother is doing. Charlie has her games and her LARPing, which was something that Dean really wants to go along to one day, Victor talks about his sister and what she is doing in politics, Annie told stories from when she was a bartender at one of LA's sleaziest bars, Ash has his computer stuff, and Garth just told jokes that everyone laughed at, no matter how bad they were. Dean didn't do anything much beside his work.

He takes a moment to appreciate just how crazy his life is.

Victor was sitting by himself at a table, and he waves at Dean while Dean stood in the line, getting a couple of pieces of bacon, two eggs and two pieces of toast. Seeing Rufus standing over at the side of the room with a group of strange looking people, Dean frowns and sits down across from Victor.

Dean leans over to speak to the older man softly, not wanting the other people in the room to hear. "Who are they?" He gestures towards the six people on the opposite side of the room, all of whom are standing as if they had a ruler along their spines. There's a half-bald guy wearing a suit who is talking to Rufus. He seems to be making Rufus nervous, which is something that Dean is finding hard to believe. Nothing makes Rufus nervous.

Next to them is a blonde man who is drinking what looks like a cocktail, is wearing black jeans, a grey shirt with a black jacket over the top, and is ignoring everyone and everything in the room as if it's below him.

A black bald man who hasn't stopped scowling since Dean has walked into the room is also wearing a full suit and is looking down his nose at all of the agents, but whenever the man who is talking to Rufus turns to look at the other five, he puts on a pleased expression that fades as soon as he turns again. Dean decides that he dislikes him.

An attractive girl who looks about 18 with fiery red hair is standing next to Mr-Scowl-a-lot. She's the most casually dressed, with jeans and a white top covered with a green army jacket. Her expression is searching, and she watches the people coming in and out of the doors with an expression that Dean finds slightly off-putting. She is looking like she has never seen a human before, and while that is cute on some people, on her it makes her look otherworldly. Dean wonders if she is single – and if she would appreciate someone asking her out. She looks just like Dean's type. Apart from the whole creepy staring thing.

A blonde innocent looking kid is standing next to the red haired girl, and Dean narrows his eyes in confusion when he sees that he's wearing a Weiner Hut uniform, and Dean speculates why a 17 year old is standing in the FBI's cafeteria. Did the badge on his shirt say Alfie?

But it's the man standing next to Alfie that makes Dean pause. He wonders how he had even seen the others, how it had taken so long for Dean to see him. The man is looking around at everything as if it were the most interesting thing he has ever seen. He is the furthest away from the group, but he definitely belongs to the group, as everyone is avoiding getting in his way, moving and even abandoning their hard won food if he wants to poke at it. The man is wearing a tan trench coat, covering black slacks and a white button down shirt with a blue backward tie. Does he look vaguely familiar?

But it's when he looks up and locks eyes with Dean that he _really_ appreciates the new-comer. His eyes are so blue he makes the sky look like a washed out cloth that has seen too many uses.

He's vaguely aware of Victor staring at him in disbelief. He's picked all this up in a few seconds, and now he had been locking eyes with the blue-eyed man longer than he had spent observing the rest of his party. The black bald man says something that Dean can't pick up, and the trench coated man turns slowly and walks back to the others.

Dean sighs softly and turns back to Victor, who is looking at him like he had grown another head. "What?" Dean asks, wondering what he did to deserve that look.

"Were you just checking out _an_ _angel?"_

"Angel? Victor what are you talking about?"

"Have you been listening to anything that I've said? I'm not going to repeat it. Just check your email." Victor sounds annoyed, so Dean decides to just get out his computer and start it up, sweeping his forgotten food off to the side.

He cannot believe what he finds.

Of course he knows about angels – who didn't? He had just never met one, or knew anyone that did. And now apparently as a part of the new _Human-Angel Initiative_, or HAI, they would be _working_ with them. Dean knew that no matter what, supernatural creatures were nothing more than that. Blood thirsty killing machines that he had to protect the world from.

There was an email that had been sent to all FBI members regarding the newcomers, saying that they were to be respected and if they wanted you to do something, you should do it. There was another sent to the SPN team that detailed the situation more. Jo and Krissy hadn't been sent the email.

He isn't sure what to think about angels though. Aren't they meant to be naked babies who sat on fluffy clouds and watched over civilisations from afar?

"Are you telling me that those people over there," Dean pauses, unsure if he's ready to state the next part of the sentence "Are angels?" He feels all his good feelings towards the red haired girl and the blue eyed man dry up.

"Yeah. Apparently they're looking at us and choosing some candidates for their partners. Canvasing us." Victor sounds disgusted.

Dean can't find it in himself to blame him. "Who are they choosing from?" Because if it's just the SPN unit, why were they standing in the cafeteria? Why had an email been sent the other members? All units took their food here. It would be much more efficient to introduce them separately, where everyone would know what was what and nothing would be hidden.

"Uh, everyone."

"Everyone?" Dean certainly did not squeak when that came out. Definitely not. "Even the normal units?"

"Yeah. But they're not going to know what they are. Just that they are a new agent."

"Holy crap that is a recipe for disaster."

"That's basically what everyone is thinking. I think only two of them are going to go to other units, and three stay with us."

"What about the sixth one?" Dean asks.

"The guy whose talking to Rufus is kinda like their leader I guess. He's just here to introduce, shake hands, and then he's gone. The others are the ones that are staying."

"That's ridiculous. How are they going to hide what they are from the units with no knowledge of the supernatural? That's what we're for – keeping the truth away from the civilians."

"I really don't know what they're trying to do. Rufus didn't say anything in the email, and when I asked him about it this morning he didn't say anything that he hadn't already."

"Maybe the high-ups told him that he's not allowed to say anything to us until they say so?" Dean suggests, watching the angels with a critical eye, looking for signs to show that they aren't human. They're gazes are too calculating, bodies too still, backs too straight, posture too stiff, just all over _not human_.

Rufus finishes talking to the bald man, spots Victor and Dean sitting together and winds his way through the tables towards them.

"Good morning boys. Can you round everyone up for a meeting in my office in ten minutes?"

"Garth is at home with his arm, but everyone else should be here."

Rufus nods, and waves them away. Dean offers an arm for Victor to lean on, and he takes it with a huff, but they probably make it to the elevator twice as quickly as they would have if he hadn't.

"Good morning Lara."

Lara gives the two of them a quick smile. "Dean! Victor. Hey. Hi. You guys probably want to go to your office don't you? Of course you do, you're in the elevator coming up from the third floor. Unless you're going out. Which you totally could be doing, I mean Victor you have a cast around your ankle, I really don't think you should be walking around, and maybe Dean has convinced you of that, but since you're both really focused on your job, doing whatever you guys do on the fifteenth floor, I mean I'm not asking that would be top secret stuff right? I'm sorry, please ignore me, I'm babbling, I do that when I get nervous, and I'm nervous now and I'm just going to shut up now."

Dean smiles slightly at the brown haired girl's reaction to seeing them. After he had rescued her from a situation where there had been at least nine guys and one Lara, and no one who was willing to help her around at the time, he was subject to her rants around him, as she got nervous when he was around, and she talked a lot when she was nervous.

"Yeah Lara, we're just going up to our level for a meeting. You can stop on your level, it's okay, don't cancel your floor."

"Sorry. I won't do it again. Unless you're in a hurry. Then I'd do it again."

Lara gets off on her floor, and Victor shoots a glance on him. "She's got a bit of a crush on you."

"No she doesn't. She has a crush on Charlie, I know that."

Victor grins, raising an eyebrow. "Have you introduced them yet?"

"I will soon. I'm still making sure that Lara's a good person, although she's passing with flying colours so far."

"That's you Winchester. Always looking out for others. You should try looking after yourself every once in a while."

Dean opens his mouth to respond, to tell Victor that he does take care of himself thank you very much, but then he remembers the sleepless nights and too much whiskey, and closes it.

Deciding that Krissy and Jo need to hear this as well, Dean invited them into the meeting room, ignoring their questions, telling them they'd get it soon enough.

Gathering all of the crew, Dean sits down between Ash and Krissy, leaving a couple of chairs where Rufus could choose to sit. But when the older man comes in, he isn't alone.

Dean should have been expecting it, should have known that the angels would come up with Rufus, and that this new Angel-Human Initiative was going to be the source of the meeting. The blonde man with the cocktail stands in a corner, and even though he was sipping it every few seconds, the level of the liquid didn't seem to go down.

The angels continue through the meeting room to Rufus's office, the one with the trench coat lingering, eyes on Dean. Then he looks at the one sipping his alcohol in the corner and frowns slightly. "Balthazar, leave the humans to themselves."

Balthazar rolls his eyes at the dark haired man. "Whatever you say Cassie," he drawls slowly in an English accent. Stalking past the rest of the team, who are seated, and Dean, who had stood as soon as he had realised that the angels were there, he casts a disgruntled look at the table and the people around it. Dean didn't think that 'Cassie' is a name for an angel, not like Balthazar, and thinks that it might be a nickname. Do angels nickname each other?

'Cassie' gives Balthazar a slight scowl, something you could have easily missed. Just by looking at this guy for a minute or so, Dean could tell that he shows his emotions through his eyes, not through his expressions.

Rufus motions for him to sit, but Dean doesn't move until he couldn't see any angels. Then he slowly sinks down into the chair.

"By now you've probably all seen the email I sent you. Just over a month ago, Zachariah approached the board of directors, saying he wanted to… work with us." Dean takes notice of the pause, and he's sure that everyone else in the room does as well.

"Working? With _angels_?" Dean makes sure his surprise and displeasure are apparent in his voice. Rufus purses his mouth slightly. "You know, supernatural creatures that could tear us apart as easily as they look at us?"

Rufus lets out a huff of breath, and there is tension in his shoulders, spine stiff where it is usually slouched. "It's not my decision," he says, a rare bit of honesty and truthfulness and doubt edging through in his voice. Letting out any negative emotion towards the high ups is something that none of them did, but Rufus in particular. If he wants to keep his job, then he needs to be in complete support of what his bosses want, and he needs to make his team think the same way. Dean doesn't particularly like it, but he also doesn't want to lose this job, since there are a multitude of hunters out there who are more than willing to step up for a steady job and steady income while also killing anything supernatural that they find. He wants to stay, so he plays along.

He can see the sentiment in all the others faces, nobody saying anything, but all of them thinking along the same lines as Dean is.

"Look. Just give it a go, okay? They approached us, so they must want to be friendly. Don't aggravate them," Rufus says, brows furrowed as he looks straight at Dean. "Don't ask them any questions that they don't want to answer," he says at Charlie. "And don't make them smite you," he looks at Krissy.

"Hey!"

"The paperwork would be horrible," Rufus finishes, looking over them. "Can you all at least try?"

Dean hesitates, but when he sees that everyone is waiting to see what he does, he nods slowly. It's followed by soft noises of assent from the others, and Rufus's mouth pinches in just a little, like he knows who the real leader is, and it's not him. Dean still isn't sure that that role suits him, ever since he was first elected to lead he hasn't been sure it suits him. He wears the mantle of a leader a lot easier now, and is much more comfortable with the others looking up to him, depending on him to know what to do.

Dean wonders if the angels know about his status.

"Good. Now you also know that the angels are going to be choosing partners from you, and the other FBI units. Castiel, Anael and Uriel will be choosing partners from within the SPN unit, and Balthazar and Samandriel will be choosing partners from the other units. They'll be around, watching and looking so they can choose partners…" Rufus trails off, obviously not knowing how the angels will choose. "Based on who they like," he finishes, and Dean sees Charlie and Annie raise their eyebrows almost simultaneously.

"So, come and meet them, I guess." Rufus stands, and Dean follows him into his office, the rest of the team trailing behind them. Dean doesn't fool himself, knowing that the angels would have been able to hear every word that they said in the other room. He isn't sure what they would make of it, but he knows that they would have heard.

Dean pegs Anael as the red haired girl, and Samandriel as Alfie. 'Cassie' must have been short for Castiel, and the other angel who isn't the leader must be Uriel, aka Mr Scowl A Lot.

Rufus introduces them, and sure enough Dean gets the names correct. Zachariah is the leader, Uriel is the bald angel, and Alfie's alter ego is Samandriel. Castiel keeps his eyes on Dean throughout the whole process. Zachariah is the leader, and he eyes Dean up in a way that he doesn't particularly like. As soon as names had been passed around, Zachariah starts speaking.

"Have you informed them of the premise of our arrangement?" He asks, staring down at Rufus. Rufus nods. "Very good! I'll be seeing you around then," he said, eyeing Dean up again before disappearing with the sound of rustling feathers. Dean feels his eyes widen, and decides not to leave out or do anything around here that he didn't want to be found, not if they could pop in and out as they pleased.

Rufus shifts uncomfortably. "Everyone, choose an angel and say hello, and ah, chat for a few minutes."

Dean narrows his eyes. Jo immediately walks over to Anael, Ash and Rufus approach Samandriel, Annie goes to talk to Castiel, who looks at Dean before speaking lowly with the older woman. Victor and Charlie look surprised when Balthazar walks over to them.

Krissy is standing close to Dean, and Dean watches as the dark skinned angel, Uriel, approaches them. He looks like someone stuck a rotting fish under his nose, and Dean thinks that he doesn't want to be here. Krissy takes a small step closer.

Looking down his nose at them, Uriel sniffs. "Hello," he says, sounding displeased. Dean feels himself bristling instinctively, and resists the urge to shove Krissy behind him.

"Hey," Dean returns warily. What are they even meant to talk about?

"You should know that even if we are being made to work with you mud-monkeys," Uriel almost snarls, "I take no pleasure in it, and would rather be doing _anything_ else."

Dean swallows. "Yeah well we're not too happy to be working with you either," trying to swallow the words stuck in his throat about how Uriel could go and shove his opinion where the sun doesn't shine.

"You are small, insignificant, and worthless," Uriel continues, evenly. "So even if you are being gifted with Heaven's presence, do not take it to mean anything about yourselves, and _don't get ideas_."

Dean feels his mouth drawing up into a line. "We won't," he says.

Uriel smiles, and there's something wrong about it. "Good. As long as you know your place, you'll be fine."

All of the angels suddenly looked upwards for a second, and then gathered together once more in one part of the room.

Dean looks the angels over again, once more noting how Castiel's eyes are focused on him. Balthazar tips his head back slightly, draining his never ending cocktail, and throws the glass over his shoulder. The glass doesn't reach the floor, disappearing halfway, and by the time Dean has finished tracking it with his eyes, all of the angels except for Castiel have left. Another two seconds pass, where the angel unerringly holds Dean's eyes, and then he too is gone, the rustle of his feathers somehow more distinct from the others.

"Well," Ash starts. "That went well."

"You don't say," Victor grumbles. Dean just shakes his head. What is he mean to do about this new arrangement?

Rufus lets out a breath, something small that you could easily miss. Something that the others in the room probably missed, because they don't pay as close attention to everything like Dean does, and that's because they don't have a reason to pay such close attention. Dean wishes with every fibre of his being to forget why he needs to pay such close attention to everything. His hand almost goes to the unmarked and unscarred anti-possession tattoo, but stops. It's a nervous tick that he doesn't need the rest of his team knowing about.

"The angels will pick their partners in a few days, and Zachariah will tell me who they've picked. Until then, just go around on your normal day to day tasks, and do your normal tasks. The angels will hover, but they probably won't do anything too drastic, so don't approach them until you have to. We still don't know how they react to anything, and until you know them better you have to treat them as if they'll explode at any second, okay?"

Everyone nods, and all Dean can think of is how badly this is going to go wrong.

At least the report he filed on aerial attacks makes a bit more sense now. Although Dean doesn't think that anything could stop an angel, not with their disappearing skills.

As soon as he's out of the office that day, Dean calls Sam.

"They've done _what_ exactly?" His brother voice is a mix of confusion, concern and fascination.

"Sam, don't make me repeat what I just said."

"It's just. Whoa. You're going to be working with angels. _Angels_ Dean. Real life angels."

Dean snorts softly. "If it'll get any of the starry eyed notions out of your head, they're kind of dicks. They all just follow they're leader around, don't say anything, and one of them was drinking a refilling cocktail."

This just seems to make Sam even more enthused. "But there are so many reasons _why_ they could be doing that Dean! Do they share a hive mind, are they being controlled, do they have to be controlled, are they willing to just follow their leader around? Do they choose to follow, do they have the option of disobeying or not? It's fascinating, and interesting, and this is why I joined this world, I _want_ to find out interesting things about stuff that other people don't know! I _want_ to know about these things, I want to learn, I want to _know_."

"I think you're getting too worked up about this Sam. You're not even here, how are you going to learn all this?"

Sam goes quiet for a second. "I can't leave Jess, not now, with such little time before the baby gets here. It's only another three months, and Dean I just can't leave her."

"Yeah, I know Sammy. I want you and Jess to be safe okay? I need to know that you're safe up in DC, with your house and your dog and your backyard and your family, okay?"

Sam sighs. "You shouldn't measure your life around me Dean. You need to make some friends that aren't who you work with, and get some hobbies that haven't got anything to do with the supernatural world. You need to get a life Dean."

Dean feels his lips flatten into a line, an old argument that they'd had many times before surfacing. "Sam, I've lived my whole life around you. I'm not going to stop now."

There was a tense silence on the other end of the phone line, and Dean can imagine Sam looking up at the ceiling, rubbing the back of his neck and wondering what he could do about his crazy brother.

"I think I might bring Jess down there," Sam changes track, and it's a jarring switch in the conversation that Dean has to struggle with. "She's cooped up in here, and she needs a change in scenery, even if it's only for a weekend. I don't think that you can fly too far from the end of the pregnancy, so we need to come down now if we're going to."

"Okay Sam. Ask Jess if she wants to come down, and if she says yes then you're welcome to come and stay at my place for a weekend."

Dean can hear Sam's gratitude over the phone. It was always carried in his voice, rather than the words he would say, and in the body language that he used. Even with half the equation, Dean can figure out that Sam is happy that Dean is accepting the olive branch he's extending. "Thanks Dean. I will. Now go and research about angels. Ask if you can have a couple of days to go and visit Bobby and Ellen, take Jo with you before her course. Hell, take your whole team. It'll let off some stress, and get you away from the office for a weekend."

"I don't know. Pretty sure they want us all around the office so the angels can 'observe' us. But I'll ask Rufus tomorrow."

"Do you think one of them will pick you?"

Dean snorts. "I don't think so. I don't want any partner, let alone one that's a supernatural creature. I have no idea why they would want to pick me, and I am going to give them absolutely no reason to pick me. They can latch onto Charlie and her outbursts of whatever craze is gripping her right at the moment."

Sam is silent for a second. "I don't know Dean. You're a pretty inspirational guy, and you're the unofficial leader. I'm not sure why they wouldn't want to pick you."

"Apart from all the sins I've got tacked up on my bill? Lets' count them, shall we? My entire job, from lying to killing."

"Dean."

"They probably wouldn't approve of the drinking either, and even if they understand the reason behind it, well, that's just another thing to add to the list isn't it?"

"Dean –"

"Not to mention my trail of one night stands a mile long."

"_Dean_!"

Dean shuts up for a second. Sam is silent as well. "Like I said, I don't see a reason that they wouldn't want to be around you, alright?"

Dean pulls drives into his parking space, and uses the fact that he's getting out of the car to excuse his silence.

Sam isn't fooled, and continues quietly. "I'll ask Jess about coming down, okay? I'll call you once she's decided."

After the usual farewells, Dean is left standing alone in his apartment. He's tired, from the stress of the day, and all he really wants to do is lie down and go to sleep. Instead, he walks over to his not immodest library, and starts looking for all the books he can find that look like they might mention angels. His bookshelves are more organised than Bobby's, who seems to have a filing system that occurs nowhere else on earth, and is impossible to find anything in, so in ten minutes he has a stack to read through.

"Time to get going," Dean mutters to himself as he pulls the first book in front of him.

The next four days are annoyingly similar.

Dean gets about or less than four hours of sleep each night. If he tries to sleep any more than that the dreams come, screwing up his rest more than staying awake does. And staying awake and being at his apartment means research. A lot of research.

He had asked Rufus about going up to Bobby's, but the captain had shot him down, telling him that maybe after the angels had picked their partners. They needed to be all together now, and while Dean couldn't really understand that, since the angels could literally be anywhere they wanted in the blink of an eye, but maybe it had more to do with the team staying together, rather than what the angels were doing.

The angels hovered, and when he said that he _meant_ that. There was always one in the corner of the room, not saying or doing anything, just watching, just looking. It was driving Dean up the walls, and he found any excuse he could to get out of the office. Occasionally they exchanged words, and by the day the Rufus tells him who the angels have chosen he's spoken to them all at least once. Anael is probably the most bearable. He was sure that the angels were the source of the very frequent reoccurrence of his dreams.

No one could find any hunts of value, just a few small salt 'n' burns across the country that Dean emailed to Bill, so he could sent some hunters that were in the region that way to take care of it. Although by the third day Dean would have driven for those five days, there and back, just to get away from those eyes, which were always present.

Castiel was the worst. Dean could deal with the other angels, since they divided their staring time equally between all of the people in the room. Castiel just stared at him, and only looked away if anyone got too close to him. Dean was sure that it was slowly but surely driving him insane.

When Rufus calls the meeting to tell them who the angels had elected Dean was extremely relieved. No more staring, he can get along with his routine with only a few glimpses of an angel every now and then.

Which was why he was in utter disbelief when Rufus told him that one of the angels chose him.

"Excuse me?"

"Don't make me repeat is Winchester. You got yourself an angel. Zachariah assigned them to partners, and you were one of the chosen ones." Rufus glares up at him from his desk where he was sitting, Dean standing above him with his hands planted on the desk. "A lot of people would do almost anything to be around an angel for an extended period of time."

_An extended period of time_, Dean thinks despairingly. "How long is this going on for then?" He asks, desperate to hear the answer of only a few weeks, a few months.

"There's no end date. Whenever they feel like pulling out."

Dean gapes. "So I'm stuck with an angelic partner until he doesn't want to hang around anymore? Do you know how patient angels are? Don't they live forever?"

Rufus tilts his slightly, opening his mouth a little. "It won't be forever. Just live with it, okay?"

Dean purses his lips, figuring that he didn't really have a choice, no matter how much he didn't want to do this. Even the thought of being near a supernatural creature and not killing it was putting his stomach into a lazy barrel roll, his meagre breakfast trying to force its way up his throat.

"Rufus…"

Rufus sighs, and Dean knows that he knows why Dean is so hesitant to do this. "You can do this Dean. Think of it as a step forward."

"Yeah I don't need any extra steps in my staircase of problems. But whatever. It won't be for every case, will it?"

Rufus shakes his head, suddenly sure of himself once more. "Only some cases. Mainly the demon ones."

"They do know that I avoid the demon ones as much as I can, right?"

"They insisted that you be one of the ones who were chosen for a partner. Angel logic, ain't make any sense to me, but then again, how can we understand them?"

Dean agrees, and as he was about to leave, he remembers to ask something. "Which angel is partnered with me?"

Rufus looks up from where he is shuffling some paperwork on his desk. "Ah, Castiel I believe."

Of course it's the stalker angel.

"Get Jo and go and talk to them. They're in the meeting room."

Collecting Jo on the way to greet the angels, Dean could feel her excitement. "Angels Dean! Real angels! Partnered with us!"

"If I hear that line one more time, then I'm gonna punch something," Dean mutters, pulling open the door. Anael and Castiel are standing in there, and Castiel's eyes immediately lock onto Dean's. Shifting uncomfortably, Dean stands on the opposite side of the table of the two angels, and once again lets himself weigh them up.

Anael is standing with her legs slightly apart, dark jeans fitting snugly under a white button down shirt and a green army jacket, the same as what she had been wearing when Dean had first laid eyes on her. Her posture is relaxed, open, and seems unthreatening. Dean knows that she is anything but, that she could twirl and become a deadly fighting machine in less than a second.

Castiel is still wearing the tan trench coat, which baggily falls over his frame, easily allowing objects to be hidden within its folds. His suit is cheap looking, doesn't fit him well, and isn't tailored to him. The blue tie that he's wearing is turned around backwards. Dean wonders if Castiel had tied it himself. The angel's blue eyes were sharp and piercing, and they contrast with his dark hair. His jaw is strong, and Dean can see the lithe lines of his body hiding underneath the multiple layers of clothing.

"Hey, I'm Dean." That was probably completely unnecessary, but Dean felt that introducing yourself was one of the first things that you did when you talked to someone for the first time, even if they already knew your name.

"My name's Jo," Jo said next to him, and Dean could have grinned. The younger female was learning after all, taking cues from the leader and following without questioning.

"I am called Castiel," Castiel intoned, voice rough and deep. Dean feels his breath catch slightly, the sound of Castiel's voice reverberating through him.

"I was named Anael, but please, call me Anna." Anna smiles slightly, and Dean thinks that something as powerful of her shouldn't look so innocent.

Anna walks away to the corner of the room, and Jo follows, probably to talk about their schedules, what they're going to do and how to work together. Dean eyes Castiel from the other side of the table, watching him watch him. Castiel seems inclined to let the silence lay, so Dean feels obligated to say something.

"So how's this going to work?" He asks, watching the angel's reaction.

A faint line appears between Castiel's eyes as his eyebrows draw together, and he studies Dean. Dean can feel his layers being stripped away, and feels like the angel is looking deeply through him, seeing his soul, something that he really doesn't want out in the open.

"I believe that you call me if I am not present and you find signs of demonic activity. Otherwise, I will be following you when Heaven does not require me, and if you are in need of help, I can assist."

"So I just wait around for you?" He would have to get the angel a phone, since he doesn't think they came equipped with one.

Castiel's head goes back for a second and then he narrows his eyes. "I am not here to do your job Dean. If I am present I can support you, but if I am not then do not count on my help."

"Don't worry, I won't." Dean says the words calmly, trying to hide how his hands were trembling slightly by clasping them behind his back. He pauses before continuing. "I thought angels were meant to be guardians… fluffy wings, halos. Not dicks." All of the information that Dean had gathered so far about them pointed to the fact that they all sucked. Especially Uriel, he is the worst of all of them.

Castiel doesn't say anything, but narrows his eyes. "Read the bible. Angels are warriors of God. I'm a soldier."

"Then why haven't you been around down here before now, getting rid of monsters, saving people?" Dean questions.

"Everything has its purpose Dean. Everything happens for a reason. We cannot interfere, because everything has a balance."

"That's bullshit. Good people have died, are dying, will die, and you're not going to do anything about it because it's 'God's plan?'"

Castiel blinks and Dean realises that he hadn't before now. "Yes."

Resisting the urge to really tell Castiel what he thought about that since it would probably get him killed, and Rufus had told them to avoid that, Dean swallows instead.

"Fine," Dean says when Castiel doesn't. Speaking to silence is disconcerting, and is something he's not used to. He feels more at ease when Sam's speech and Charlie's chattering surround him, not this oppressive silence, filled with something that he couldn't name, Castiel's eyes on him, silently studying him as if he was worth being studied.

"Come here," Dean says, and he brings his phone up to snap a photo of Castiel. The angel looks vaguely confused, and Dean smirks at it. Definitely going on his badge.

"What… is that for?"

"If you're gonna be part of the team, you're going to need a badge to flash."

Castiel narrows his eyes. "That does make sense."

Dean feels the corner of his mouth lifting up against his will. "Yeah, it does. I'm just going to let you know right now, I'm not thrilled about working with you."

Castiel's face stays emotionless. "I too have better things to do with my time than watch over one human, but my superiors will it so, and I must obey."

Dean thinks about Sam's questions then, but he thinks that it's too soon in their relationship to start asking him them. "Whatever you say, as long as you know I'm not willingly participating in this."

Leaving the still silently staring angel, Dean walks out of the room, followed quickly by Jo. She's smiling, and Dean thinks that her meeting probably went better than his own.

"She's nice. I like her. She said she'll come with me to training, and learn there as well. She said she could arrange that with Rufus for her to get a place, even this late. It's going to be cool."

Dean grunts, still not liking how Castiel had remained distant and aloof through their talking. The angel could have at least _tried_ to connect more with Dean, since they would be working together for a while? Dean had made an effort after all – he _did_ talk to the guy.

Maybe Cas really didn't want to do this either. Dean is struck by the thought. Cas did say he didn't want to do this, but would the angels force unwilling participants into their midst? Cas must have not minded too much, or he would have said no to being here. If the angels were forced though, Dean thinks that that would be an even bigger disaster waiting to happen, but he didn't know if his thoughts were correct.

Didn't Rufus say that the angels could choose who they were partnered with? Didn't he just say that they were assigned? Dean frowns slightly, and the issue of it rolled and turned over in the back of his head for the rest of the day.

When he gets home he calls Sam to tell him about Castiel, and Sam congratulated him on his promotion.

"A promotion?" Dean asks bemusedly.

"Well partnering an angel is a step above what you normally do right? Did you ask for a raise?"

"Damnit."

"I'll take that as a no."

"I'll use it against Rufus when I ask to go to Bobby's."

"Oh yeah, Jess told me that the weekend after next is when she said we could fly down."

Dean calculates it in his head. "If I stop over in Denver, I can get to Bobby's in two days. That means if I leave before Sunday I can still get there and back and have a few days there before you guys get here. Now all I have to do is convince Rufus."

"I'm sure you'll be able to do it."

"Yeah yeah. I have to call Bobby to make sure he's home and I actually can go. Are you definitely coming?"

"Yes, the flight is booked, and everything's ready to go. I'll see you and your mystery new partner, okay?"

Dean huffs, and says goodnight to his younger brother. Glancing over at the bench, Dean bites his lip before turning away from the incriminating silence and the golden glow of the whiskey.

Pulling up his desk chair, Dean opens one of his last books that he has on angels. The past few days he had made his way through half of his library, re-reading books that had nothing to do with angels but mentioned religion, Christianity, or anything related to angels. Dean isn't sure how much of it is correct, but he figures being over prepared was better than being under prepared.

Rubbing his eyes wearily, Dean turns the page. It was nearing two am, and he's considering going to sleep. It was only the memory of the dreams that had been plaguing him for the last two weeks that kept him out of his bedroom.

Another hour passed, and Dean acknowledges that he is probably exhausted enough not to dream.

Letting his head fall down on the pillow, he almost felt like he fell asleep before he closed his eyes.

"I believe that as it is a working day, you should currently be at your work. Unless the human custom has changed since I last checked. As I checked four minutes ago, I do not think it has changed."

Dean had jerked awake after the third word, and now he was staring at Cas with his eyes half lidded, trying to remember if his head was pounding because he had a hangover, because he had gotten too little sleep, or if Cas had woken him up from a nightmare. That had happened the few times Sam had shaken him awake when he was living in DC with his brother, and Dean had no wish to repeat those experiences. After a second he decides it's because of the too little sleep option, and stumbles out of bed, half dressed and not prepared to face the immaculate angel.

"You alarm is going off, so I assume you are not meant to be here, but since you are still sleeping you probably were exhausted enough to ignore it, even though your hunter trained senses have been honed to wake you if there are any sounds. So Dean," the angel continues, and Dean is _really_ not awake enough to deal with this. "How have you been sleeping?"

Dean makes a sound that probably comes between an 'arrg' and an 'urp?'

Castiel looks confused, and Dean doesn't really blame him.

His eyes are gritty, and his body is heavy with the sensation of not enough sleep, something he has known a few times, but never while he was meant to be resting, like he usually is here.

Maybe those dreams were getting to him.

"What are you doing here?" Dean finally manages to get out, and that's when he realises that there's an _angel_ in his apartment, and holy shit does that wake him up fast.

"Krissy and Charlie both expressed concern over your whereabouts, since it was ten minutes past the time when you usually get there, and I told them I would check with what was keeping you. I flew here, and you were present for the rest."

Dean squints at him, rubs his forehead and grabs some clothes before walking into the bathroom.

Feeling exposed with the angel in the apartment, Dean has one of the quickest showers of his life, brushing his teeth and getting changed in under ten minutes. He looks at his suit in loathing, already despising it. It was these kinds of days that he wished he was just a hunter, with no responsibilities, able to do whatever he wanted. He could go to a bar, relax, play some pool, flirt with some girls and maybe take one back to his hotel. It's been too long since he's slept with anyone.

Castiel was still in the apartment when he had finished getting changed, examining his gun collection with a critical eye.

"That firearm will back fire in two shots," he says, pointing to one of the Glocks.

"What? Don't be ridiculous." Dean walks out the door, locking it behind him. Hearing the rustle of feathers, he turns to see Cas's scowl being directed right at him.

"That was not hospitable."

"You were the one who flapped your way in while I was sleeping, so hey, don't talk to me about hospitality."

Getting into the elevator, Dean raises an eyebrow when Cas didn't join him, and instead was waiting at the bottom.

"Your vehicles move too slowly," Cas says defensively, and Dean opens his mouth a little at that.

"Okay, first of all, an elevator is not a vehicle.

"It moves you around via machinery. Just because it goes up and not down means that it is not a vehicle?"

Dean blinks. "And second, angels get travel sick?"

"Your vehicles move too slowly," Cas repeats, and really what can Dean say to a travel sick angel?

"Okay then. If you want to fly off to wherever then, go ahead. Otherwise, come and check out my baby." Dean smiles. Cas probably wouldn't appreciate the Impala, but he always liked showing her off to someone new.

"I was unaware that you had offspring Dean."

"What – Cas. I don't have a kid."

The angel narrows his eyes at the nickname, but doesn't comment. "You just told me to come and look at your child Dean. I don't know what else that could mean, other than your offspring."

Dean closes his mouth, and wonders if he had got himself into a bigger hole than he had realised here.

"I meant the Impala."

"I do not understand how your car could count as your child Dean."

Dean doesn't know how to respond to Cas's question, so he just keeps his mouth shut, getting into the driver's seat and turning the engine on.

Cas appears with a rustle and Dean glances over to him, trying to look at the angel without _looking_ at the angel.

"Ever heard of a door handle?"

"Of course I have."

Dean doesn't know how to respond to that either, so he just drives.

Thus commenced the most awkward thirty two minutes of Dean's life since Sam was growing up. While Cas sits in the passenger's seat, never once looking uncomfortable even though apparently angels get travel sick. Dean tries to focus on the road, on the traffic, on getting to work. Exhaustion still clung at his eyes and in the migraine that was accumulating behind his forehead. While he had escaped the nightmares that plagued him last night, he knew he would have to sleep more tonight, and he was certain that he wouldn't be able to catch a break, and he'd dream then too. Castiel didn't seem to mind the silence, but Dean had grown up with loud conversations and louder tapes when he was driving, a tradition he continued on after John left when he was fifteen. Sam was used to it, as was the rest of the team, but he can't make himself turn the radio on with Cas in the car. It doesn't feel right for some reason.

Dean doesn't like the angel. He turns up in his apartment, doesn't understand half of what Dean says, or if he did he took it the wrong way, rigidly stuck to the rules, unlike Anna and Balthazar at least, and he never stopped _staring_.

Even now he's doing it, and knowing that there are eyes on him, eyes of a supernatural creature, is sending ice crawling down his spine, and Dean is sure that this is the source of his increased dreams. Knowing that there is something that could easily kill him who knew about him, knew about the people he works with and cared about was feeding Dean's nightmares. Lately they were less about random people bleeding and screaming and more the people he knew bleeding out underneath his own hands. Dean is sure that Sam would realise something was up as soon as he came down here in a week, and Dean knew that Sam would try to talk about it. He just didn't understand why it mattered. He was coping, he could deal, he was managing. Maybe not as well as he could, but he was still managing. So Sam should keep his nose in his own business.

Sighing, he carefully goes around the bends in the car park, and when he gets out this time, Cas uses the door.

"So you decided to turn up after all – whoa, Dean you look like crap." Krissy is looking him up and down, and Dean could really do without that right now.

"Yeah yeah Krissy." He grumbles. Cas walks off to do whatever he did in his spare time, and Dean sits down heavily at his desk, wondering how long he could keep this job if his dreams kept acting up.

"Krissy was right, you do look like crap."

Dean raises his face from his hands, looking up at Charlie. He isn't sure how much time has passed. "Gee thanks."

"How many hours of sleep did you get last night?"

"I don't feel comfortable answering that right now."

"When would you choose to be comfortable with it?"

"Never."

"Oh, how could I have guessed that answer? Dean you've been looking worse and worse all week. Just be glad that Rufus hasn't come in yet, and all of us are willing to cover your ass."

Dean throws a smile up at her. "Thanks Charlie."

"Now tell me how much you've slept over the past couple of nights."

"Charlie –"

"Judging by his bio-chemical levels, Dean has slept eleven hours over the last six days."

"Wow Cas, thanks for sharing."

"You're welcome Dean. Judging from your brain activity right now, or lack of it, and how what is left is trembling with exhaustion, I thought that you would not have been able to remember."

Charlie widens her eyes at him. "Thank you Castiel."

When no answer comes, Dean turns in his chair to see Cas poking at the water dispenser.

"So Dean," Charlie starts, "How are you going?"

"I can't sleep," Dean bites out, looking over at Cas to make sure he isn't listening, hoping that if he throws Charlie a bloody bone she'll be happy.

The red-haired woman's face softens a bit, but she continues. "Okay, why?"

Dean glares at her, wondering if he can find some way to change the subject. Although knowing Charlie, she would only know for sure that Dean only had something to hide, and wouldn't let it drop. She was like that.

Sighing, Dean gives up. "I think it's the angels. Being around supernatural creatures and not trying to kill them… It's a trigger. And it's screwing up my sleeping times."

Charlie bites her lip, and Dean sees the moment where he knows that she reaches the same conclusion that he has – there's no way of getting around this, unless Dean wanted to quit his job.

"Well maybe you need you get used to them a bit more, see that they're not going to hurt you."

"That's the problem though!" Dean spits out, extremely aware of Cas walking around the room. "I can't Charlie. I can't convince myself that they're not here for some ulterior motive, I can't convince myself that they're not going to hurt me, or you, or anyone else I care about, and even if I did believe that consciously I don't think I could make myself believe it unconsciously."

Charlie doesn't say anything, but when Dean looks up she's biting her lip, staring off into the distance. Dean knows that she's thinking, but he already knows there are no easy solutions to this problem.

"Have you dug up any hunts?" He asks instead, because that's easier, he can deal with that conversation, and he really wants to leave the current one.

Charlie's eyes flick to him at the change of topic, but she lets it lie. "Nothing. It's like peace has descended upon the land. For the life of me, I can't find anything nearby. There was something in Maine and Vermont, but I sent those over to Bill, and they were only small things too, not certain. Maybe the presence of our guardian angels have scared them off?"

Dean snorts. "Unlikely. Look, if you find anything, can you tell me please? I think if I get out of here I'll get back to sleeping normally."

Charlie nods. "Okay then. Where are you going?"

"To the gym. I really need to wake up."

"And you'll do it by hitting things until you can't see?"

Dean silently flips her off behind his back, and listens to Charlie's laughter as he leaves the office, a slight smile gracing his face.

_Thud thud smack hit. Thud thud smack hit. Thud thud smack hit. Thud thud smack hit. _

Dean punches the punching bag a few more times before leaning back and wiping the back of his hand on his forehead. He's been in here for nearly an hour, and all of that time had been spent hitting the garish red bag in front of him. Stripping off the bandages he had put over his knuckles to keep the skin from breaking, he starts going round the room spending ten minutes with each of the different weights, doing the different exercises.

"I admit, I do not see the point of this."

Dean swears under his breath and stops himself from spinning and launching a weight in the angel's face with the sheer force of his will. It's a close call.

"Far fucking out, Cas," Dean hisses. "You nearly gave me a heart attack!" Sighing, Dean leans against the wall. "And you can't just fly in like that Cas. This gym's used by any member of the FBI who wants to use it. Someone could have seen you pop in." Dean looks around. There were only a few people in here, and none of them seems to have marked the angel's sudden appearance.

"Why?" The angel asks.

"Because not everyone knows that you exist Cas! Okay, in here they probably wouldn't ask questions, I know I've seen some weird stuff and haven't commented, but they're civilians! Our job is to keep them safe, not expose them to the supernatural world!" Dean says lowly, confident that the angel can hear him, and making sure that the other people in the gym couldn't.

"And this, keeping them away from the truth, you believe in this? You think it best?"

"Be quiet! And yeah, I do think it's a good idea to keep away from the knowledge. It'd just fuck up their life, and they really don't need that. I mean, they work for the FBI, how much more screwed can you get?"

Cas frowns. "How is working for the FBI going to make you… 'Screwed'?"

"Well they already deal with death danger and more danger every day. Even those who stay here and do the research are still affected by what they see. It's not pretty Cas, it never has been and it never will be. And we, we have it worse than most. I mean, in what other unit would you see the inside out of a chupacabra's victim, or nearly get eaten every third week on the job?"

"I do believe that this is the best place for that, yes."

Dean looks at the angel, not realising how literally he takes everything. "Whatever. Let's just go. And no flying off!"

Cas frowns slightly but he follows Dean out the doors of the gym instead of disappearing. Dean leads them to the photo developing lab, where he hooks up his phone and chooses the picture of Cas that he had taken yesterday. Five minutes later it was printed, and Dean, who had already gone and gotten all of Cas's credentials to be made into a real badge, slides the photo inside, and looks it over, making sure that there was nothing wrong.

"There you go. Your sparkly brand new badge. Now all you need is a phone." Dean opens Cas's trench coat and slips it into one of the inside pockets, making sure that the angel would be able to easily get it out. Cas was staring at Dean, and Dean was suddenly very aware of how close he was to the angel. "All done. You can officially call yourself one of us."

"I do not understand how a… 'badge' could make me human Dean, but I do appreciate the gesture."

Dean raises his eyebrows and resists the urge to say something snarky. Cas probably wouldn't understand it anyway.

"I have to go and talk to Rufus, you coming?" Dean asks, not sure why, even as the words are coming out of his mouth.

"I have no other place to currently occupy."

Dean narrows an eye at the dark haired man but decides that he's not up for an 'educating the angel' session.

Knocking on Rufus's door, Dean can feel Castiel's presence behind him, even as the angel makes no sound whatsoever, a chill running down the back of his neck, the knowledge of unknown eyes watching him, a shiver of knowing that Dean couldn't describe.

"What is it Winchester?" The older man asks, eyes flicking from Dean to Cas and back again.

"Rufus, since there's no case going on, I was wondering if I could go down to Bobby's for a bit, renew my book collection, take Jo to see Ellen before she takes her course?" Rufus never likes when you beat around the bush with asking him anything, so Dean gets straight to the point.

Rufus's eyes flick to Castiel again before settling on Dean. "And do you feel that this would help with your… other problems?"

He's talking about the dreams of course, and Dean takes a moment to curse Charlie creatively. "Yeah, I guess."

Rufus purses his mouth. "I can't let you go yet boy. We've just started the AHI, and you're one of our main players. You can go the weekend after next, alright?"

"Robbing Jo of her chance to see her mum before her course. And Sam wanted to come down next weekend."

Rufus scowls at him, but Dean knows that he has a soft spot for the older intern. "Jo can make her own way to Nebraska in the next week. I can't have both of you out at the same time. As soon as she gets back you can go. And Sam will just have to reschedule."

Dean's had worse compromises, so he nods and leaves, going to find Jo to tell her that she could go and visit Ellen, making a mental note to call Sam.

Finding Jo on his way back up to the office, Dean smiles. "Are you ready to go?"

Jo looks up at him. "I don't know if I can do this Dean. Four weeks. Four weeks, and that's all I have to prepare before I go. I'm freaking out here."

"Hey. You're going to do fine. Just don't stress too much, pace yourself so you don't burn yourself out before the final test, and make some friends. You'll have fun, don't worry." Jo just shakes her head.

"I think I'm going to explode from worry," she confides. "What will I do about the teachers? The other students?"

"Don't worry about the teachers, they're all professions who know the shit that they're teaching, and they're good at teaching it okay? And if a student's giving you trouble, just pull out your shotgun and threaten to fire off a few rounds."

Jo smiles. "Yeah, yeah, okay, I'm sure I'll be fine."

"That's the spirit! But remember, until you come back, you're technically still our intern, and right now, I need you to go and get me some coffee, because I slept less than three hours last night and I feel like I'm about to fall asleep standing up. And I talked to Rufus, and he said that you can leave anytime to go and visit the Roadhouse, as long as you're back before your course starts." Jo grins.

"Thanks Dean, I owe ya one." Jo sighs, remembering that she still needs to go and grab the coffee. She snatches up the keys to her bike, so she can head down and get them the best coffee in all of Phoenix from his one small coffee shop that's run down and slightly drab, but still produces some of the best stuff Dean's ever tasted.

Dean's about to sit down at his desk when he hears what he's been longing for the past three days, something that he really needs right about now, what with the stress and the angels and the dreams, and basically it's been all over sucky. But Charlie comes to the rescue with her weapons of computers and keyboards, finding information that no one else would be able to pick up on in time.

"Dean, I think I've found a hunt for you."

Dean feels a smile curl at the corners of his mouth.


	3. And Then There Was Meg

Profound Bond – Chapter Three

It was a Tuesday afternoon, one day in late spring, when Dean met his first demon.

He remembers that much at least. Dean had taken Sam into the bathroom and locked him in there, not wanting the monster that John had brought home to see his little brother, or for Sam to see it. It had been in the body of a small looking weedy man with glasses, not that it needed them. John had sprayed a Devil's Trap on the floor, and that was where he threw the demon.

Dean had been standing behind the cheap shoddy couch, staring wide eyed at the man sitting tied up in the circle in the middle of the room. John had finished tying the demon up and had looked at his eldest son.

"Don't just stand there Dean. I'm gonna teach you how to exorcize a demon."

Every time Dean had stumbled over the Latin incantation, John had pursed his lips and looked at Dean disapprovingly. Desperate to please his father, Dean tried to talk faster, to let the words roll out smoothly from his tongue. When the demon had started twitching, Dean had jumped, letting the piece of paper with the words on it flutter slowly to the ground. John had twisted his mouth into an ugly line and finished the exorcism.

Dean had crawled back into the bedroom, where Sam was, disobeying him even though Dean had told him that he mustn't come out no matter what. He tried to hide the forming bruises from his brother, but even then Sam had a sharp eye, and had silently gone to the hardly working fridge to get out some cold water to put in a glass that Sam could hold against Dean's face. Dean silently thanked him, as moving anything in his face right now was too hard and too painful.

Dean had been nine. Sam had been five.

His experiences with demons hadn't improved over the years.

When he was hunting, he had dealt with a few cases, very distinct as in how rare they were, that involved demons. Things had been better, before Meg and Alastair had come along.

Meg is a leader, as far as Dean could tell.

Alastair is a specialist.

Meg directed, had grunts and master plans. She was someone you didn't want to cross, and you didn't want her to remember your name.

Dean hadn't been that lucky. Meg had liked him from the first time he had met her, and the way that he just kept running across her every year or so, he had to assume that she sought him out, because she never seemed surprised that he was there. The final hunt before he had been asked to join the SPN unit had involved her, and it was through his planning that he had managed to get out Annie, Victor, Rufus, Bobby, Caleb, Tamara, Isaac, Ellen and Sam out alive. It had been one of the rare times that hunters had worked together, made even rarer by the fact that Bobby had called in the SPN unit as well, since mixing hunters and federal representatives had never seemed to work out well.

Bobby had picked up on something big happening, and Missouri had called to talk him into gathering as many people as he could, saying that he would need all the help he could get. Dean had convinced Sam to take a week off from Stanford to come and help, to which he had reluctantly agreed, wanting to study for some test, and meet up with a girl he had met, someone named Jess.

They had arrived too late to stop Meg's plan, and had witnessed as too many demons to count had flown up into the air, separating and spreading in all different directions. Dean had suggested a plan, by passing all the demons, and getting everyone out alive safely. Even though a pathway to Hell had been opened and a truckload of demons had escaped, everyone had got out alive, Dean had counted it as a win, even as he tried to ignore the guilt that ate him up from the inside, the quiet voice at the back of his head that told him that he could have stopped it, if he'd been faster, better, stronger. It reminded him of all the innocent lives that the demons could be taking, who they could be possessing, what lives they could be ruining. Dean told it to shut up, but it was persistent.

It sounded like his father's voice, but Dean chose to ignore that as well.

And then what happened with Alastair, and the dreams that had been plaguing him ever since…

Safe to say, demons were topping the list of his least favourite things to tango with. They were hard to kill, hard to defend against, and always had a plan in motion to do something horrible to the human race in general. Not to mention the fact that every single fucking thing about them was a trigger.

So when Charlie told him that the case involved demons, Dean wasn't exactly happy.

"Hey, don't look at me like that. You said any case, and this is a case. And you have your super-secret weapon on stand-by for nuclear, Cas."

"That is incorrect Charlie, I have more power at my disposal than a nuclear reactor."

"There you go Dean, you've got nothing to worry about." Dean sees fear flash in Charlie's eyes, and realises for the first time that the others on the team are also getting over their own innate fears of the supernatural.

They're all here for a reason.

"Do you dislike demons Dean?" Cas asks, looking over the information Charlie had up.

"You could say that," Dean mutters, looking at the ground. "Anyway, Charlie, gimme the info and I'll do it."

"Elko, Nevada has been having problems with disappearing citizens lately. Five cases have been reported in two days, and the police have been having problems with what is reported as 'cult and religious symbols'. And then while I was going through the cameras of the local area, I saw this."

Charlie hands over a photo printed out on a piece of paper. It's obviously from a security camera, but it just happens to get a solid glimpse of outside the shop as well. Dean can see a group of people, and leading the group of people is a too-familiar face.

"Meg," he hisses out. Never seeing her ugly mug again would have been too soon for Dean.

"You know this demon?" Cas asks.

"Too well."

"When are you going to leave?"

"I'll get packed up and leave tomorrow morning. You need anything from me until I get back?"

"Nah, I call you if anything comes up."

"Cool, I'll see you when I get back then."

"Are you sure you don't need any back up?"

"I'll be fine. I've dealt with Meg on my own before."

"Yeah, and that worked out so well."

Dean feels his mouth twist against his will, and he swallows down his automatic response. Charlie doesn't need that, and he doesn't need to feel bad after telling her off.

"Thanks for the reminder," he says instead, and Charlie flinches and mutters 'sorry' under her breath.

"What is your relationship with this demon Dean?" Cas asks as they walk out of the offices, Dean running over what he would need in his head, inventorying and gathering. There should be everything he needs in his apartment.

"None of your bees wax Cas."

"You are right, I do not own any bees wax. However, you did not answer my question about the demon."

"None. Of. Your. Business."

Cas frowns but thankfully doesn't push the issue. He stays behind when Dean catches the elevator down to the car park, and the angel doesn't show up on the drive home. Dean's grateful that he won't have to face the questions he would ask just yet.

Collecting all of the things he would need to take on Meg, even with angelic help, took a while, as Dean had to replenish his holy water, salt and spray can supplies, but everything else he could find where he lives.

After he had everything he needed packed and ready to go, Dean turns his computer on and searches all he could find on the town where Meg had taken up residence. He doesn't find much more than Charlie, but he does find a block of old apartment buildings that have been marked for demolition, and which witnesses have described as to having strange noises, chants, black smoke and screams coming from late at night. No one put stock in such things, no one except Dean, who had heard Meg doing these kinds of things before.

Dean swallows Pamela's strange tasting leaves, and wishes for a dreamless sleep.

_Beep beep beep beep beep b – _

Dean shuts off his alarm, sighing softly as he realises that he had slept the night through.

Gathering his bags, Dean locks his apartment, asks Chuck to watch his it, and is out on the high way towards Nevada before the sun had completely risen above the horizon.

He's half expecting Cas to show up during the car ride, but as the hours tick by and there's no flutter of wings in the seat beside him, Dean feels himself becoming cooler and cooler towards the angel. Because it's winter, the sun sets earlier than it would have if it were summer, and Dean finishes the twelve hour long journey in darkness. Finding a motel was not particularly difficult, and it was a half decent one for once.

After letting himself feel alone for a few seconds as he looks around the single room, Dean lays down all the wards, salt lines and protections against demons and all the common monsters in twenty minutes.

Two leaves of Pamela's medicine later, Dean is lying down on his bed, eyes drooping and brain weary.

The harsh sunlight is what drags him out of sleep. Blinking rapidly and fighting the urge to let his eyelids droop again, Dean takes the cursory second to survey the room. It usually didn't need to be done, since there was nearly no way that anything could get inside the room, and so it took Dean a second to register that he isn't alone after all.

"Holy crap Cas! What the hell are you doing here?" Dean slurs, throwing the covers off and sitting up, immediately regretting it and having to fight to remain in the bed instead of on the floor beside it.

"I believe that there is a group of demons set on wreaking havoc in this town Dean. That is why we are here. "

Dean groans, not up to dealing with the angel this early in the morning. "How'd you get in 'ere anyway?"

"None of these have any effect on me Dean, or any angel. You possess no knowledge of angel banishing or warding symbols."

"So there are things that can affect angels?" His head is pounding and his mouth feels like something's died in it.

"Of course." From what Dean can tell, Cas is looking at him with a slight frown, as if Dean was stupid to think that there isn't any way that angels can be affected by things like symbols.

"I guess there's no chance of you telling me what they are, right?"

Cas regards him silently. "You are correct."

"Great. Now please move so I can go and throw up."

Cas follows him into the bathroom, breaking nearly every personal space and empathy rule that Dean can think of. He stands next to the sink and watches silently as Dean hangs his head over the toilet.

"Why do I feel like I have a hangover? I don't have a hangover. Do I?" When Cas shakes his head, Dean lets out a sigh of relief. "Well at least I didn't go and drink myself to sleep last night."

"You appear to be suffering from an overdose of camrine. A very rare herb, one that's said to help those who have trouble sleeping have a long and undisturbed rest. I smell it on you, through your pores and on your breath."

"You mean Pamela's herbs?" He is going to throw up, and he doesn't want to do it in front of the angel, but Cas is being annoying and standing there, so he tries to hold it back.

"I hope this Pamela gave you very specific instructions, because otherwise she may have been trying to kill you. An overdose can be fatal."

"Oh, yeah, she told me really specifically what to do and how to take it."

"And you ignored her?"

Dean swirls his tongue around his mouth, feeling the pins and needles shoot wherever he touched. "Maybe?"

Cas gives him a disapproving look, and shakes his head before looking at the ceiling. "Of course. You will not be sick, it is simply the effect of the herb, and how it makes you feel like you're going to vomit. You will not though.

"But I still get the feeling. Awesome."

"I have confirmed that there are demons in this town, but there is a powerful one among them that is shielding their presence and numbers from me. I can sense their presence in this town, and have narrowed their possible location to a few city blocks."

"I know where they are." Dean replies, still fighting the urge to empty his stomach, no matter what Cas says on the subject.

"Where?"

"There's an article open on the computer."

Cas leaves the room, and Dean lets himself take fifteen minutes to kneel and gradually feel better.

When he leaves the bathroom he finds Cas sitting in the chair in front of the computer, staring at it as if it'll stand up and bite him.

"Awesome," Dean mutters. "A technologically impaired angel."

Cas is staring at the home screen, and Dean leans over him to grab the mouse and clicks on the open internet tab, bringing the article and the map of where the abandoned apartment block is. "There. That's where Meg is."

"Is this information reliable?"

"Yeah, Meg leaves these kinds of signs lying around. If you know what you're looking for, then it's not too hard to pick up on her trail, as long as she's topside and not kicking her feet up downstairs. I'm going to go and ask some questions of the local cops, just to check and make sure I've got all of the relevant information, and to make sure that this place," Dean taps the screen of the computer, pointing at the apartment complex, "Is the right place to be looking."

"I will accompany you."

Dean raises an eyebrow. "Okay then, come on."

Dean changes into his suit and stuffed as many demon fighting and general tools onto him as he can while still remaining inconspicuous.

Walking out to the Impala, Dean feels the icy coolness of the angel's presence as Cas followed him out to the car. The angel opened the door to slip inside, and Dean counts it as a success that he had managed to get anything to stick at all.

Dean had already found out where the police department for Elko, and they head there, driving through the winding streets, trying not to let the silence in the car get to him. The angel seems content to let the silence lay between them undisturbed. Dean is used to noise, but Cas always seems to prefer the quiet.

Without any fuss they arrive at the police department, and Dean rounds on Cas. "You still have your badge don't you?"

"Yes."

"And you know that when you introduce yourself as part of the FBI then you have to show them the badge, okay? Just hold it up in front of you. Now don't say anything and let me ask the questions, okay?"

"Dean I wish to participate in the process."

"What?" Dean feels his mouth hanging open somewhat, but he doesn't do anything to close it, too stunned by what the angel was saying. "Cas you've never even seen someone ask questions of the local police."

"I have watched over humanity for millennia Dean. I am sure that I will manage."

Dean watches as Cas opens the door and walks inside.

"Oh this is so not going to end well," Dean mutters, and follows the dark haired angel inside.

Cas approaches the front desk, and asks for the head of the office so he can speak with him. _Not too bad_, Dean thinks, and that's where it all starts to go downhill.

The deputy walks out and introduces himself as Deputy Framingham, shaking Dean's hand.

"Dean Winchester, FBI." Dean shows him his badge, and puts it away, waiting for Cas to show his. When the angel doesn't move, Dean elbows him in the side.

Cas seems to remember that he's supposed to show Framingham his badge as well, and he pulls it out of his coat pocket and holds it up.

Dean has to resist the urge to rub his forehead when he sees that the badge is upside down. Smoothing his face out into a hopefully unreadable mask, he leans out and flips it over the right way.

When the deputy looks at him strangely, Dean can only shrug half-heartedly and say, "He's new." What else could he tell him? Oh sorry this is my angelic partner who's never interacted with another human being before please humour him? "Could we ask you a few questions concerning the disappearances you've been having lately?"

The deputy nods slowly, still looking at Castiel strangely.

The deputy leads them into the privacy of an office, and motions for them to sit in the two chairs that are on the other side of the desk to where Framingham sits down.

"Just a few routine ones, do you know anyone who disappeared?"

"No I do not."

"Do you know where they are being taken, or do you have suspicions?"

"There's rumour that they're being kept in an old abandoned complex near the edge of town, but I went and checked it out, and there's no one and nothing there."

"When did you go?"

"Yesterday afternoon. Do you know what's happening to these people officers? They're the people of my town, and I really want to know that they're safe and that no more are going to disappear anytime soon."

"No, we don't know what's happening," Dean says, lying through his teeth, something he normally does while on the job. Cas casts an unhappy look at him.

"It's demons," Cas says, and Dean wants to hit him with something heavy.

"What?" The deputy asks, looking at Cas with narrowed eyes.

"Demons." Cas says. Dean glares at him, trying to get him to be quiet.

"We don't know where people are being taken from," Dean tries to salvage the conversation.

"Demons." Dean kicks Cas under the table, and Cas looks at him in bewilderedly, but keeps quiet. Finally.

"You, know, drink, adultery, could be leading people to places where they could be kidnapped. We all have our demons," Dean says, forcing himself to laugh slightly. The other two people in the room eye him, and Dean stops laughing.

"So you know nothing about how these people are disappearing, why they're disappearing, or how they're connected?"

"No sir, I don't."

Dean gives the man his professional smile, and stands. Cas does as well. "Then thank you for your time. We'll find your people, don't worry.

The deputy looks at them in confusion. "Cas, let's go," Dean says, nodding to the deputy, who is still looking puzzled.

Dean pushes open the door, holding it for a second so Cas wouldn't get caught in the doorway. "Well that was a waste of time. He didn't really tell us anything other than we already knew, and you nearly broke our cover!"

"I was simply telling the man the truth. I expected that you would appreciate that statement. You put those that lie high on your list of people you don't wish to spend time with."

Dean rubs his forehead, not wanting to know how Cas knew about the list. "Look Cas, we don't tell people the truth okay? It makes them nervous, and afraid, and that's not something you want. You want people to live out their lives oblivious to all the things out there that could kill them easier than the effort they take to swat a fly. They don't need to know that, and if you tell them that it makes them unhappy. And we want to keep them happy, keep them in the dark."

Cas looks at him expressionlessly. "You wish to lie to people?"

"It keeps them happy and safe Cas. That's what we're here for. To keep them happy and safe."

Cas doesn't look like he understands, but Dean can see him brush off the conversation. "Then are we going to the apartment block?"

"Yeah, I'll go back to my room and pick up my stuff, and we can go to the edge of town and kill ourselves some demons. I'm assuming angels can kill demons?"

Cas gives him a look that clearly conveys that he thinks Dean's insane. "Of course angels can kill demons. You said that _we_ are going to go and kill demons? How can you kill a demon?"

"Oh yeah. I have a knife that kills demons. Kills the meatsuit as well, it's a shame, but it takes care of the demons well and good."

Cas frowns slightly. "May I see this knife?"

"Uh, sure I guess. Here," Dean pulls the knife from his pocket. "It's the only thing that I keep on me no matter what. You never know when you'll need a knife that can kill the unkillable."

"Dean." Cas is looking at the knife in trepidation, and something in Dean twists slightly.

"Yeah Cas?"

"Where did you find this?"

"…One of Lucifer's crypts."

"You know where they are?" Cas asks him urgently.

"Some of them, yeah."

"How?" Cas demands, taking a step closer.

"Whoa, Cas, calm it there. I really don't want to talk about how I know where they are, okay? Drop it, please."

Cas narrows his eyes but releases the knife so it falls on the ground. Dean bites his tongue and picks it up, running a hand through his hair when he stands back up.

Cas is still looking at him suspiciously. "The angels have been searching for Lucifer's crypts for a long time Dean. They hold the demons most prized weaponry and knowledge. Keeping that away from them is critical."

"Yeah well very few demons know about the crypts, and they're not guarded or anything. I seriously just broke open a door, walked in, and picked this up."

Cas purses his lips slightly and looks over Dean's shoulder. "Let us go and investigate the apartment block," he says, and disappears in front of Dean's eyes.

"I don't think I'm going to get used to that anytime soon," he mutters under his breath, looking around to make sure that no one saw Cas disappear.

As soon as Dean leaves the hotel room, with all the things he needs in a bag over his shoulder, himself stocked with as many weapons and lock picks as he can manage, Cas appears beside him.

"The demons are currently inside the apartment block. There are somewhere between seven and twelve of them, and there is a more powerful demon among them."

"Meg," Dean spits out the name while hurrying to the Impala. Cas appears in the seat next to him and Dean decides not to mention anything since he's currently about to face down a building full of demons and trying to ignore the fact that he hasn't slept in over 24 hours.

Pulling up a block away from the building, Dean gets out and checks that everything is in place. Satisfied that he's as prepared as he's going to be, he faces Cas.

"Do you know where the main gathering of them is?"

"There is one on the first, second, third, fifth, sixth, seventh and eighth floors. There is a gathering of no more than five plus the more powerful one on the fourth floor."

"Great, you take the ones on the top floors, work your way down to the fourth, and I'll get in and do the same from the bottom." Cas looks like he's about to protest, but Dean strides over to the building, opens the door and looks back to see if the angel is still standing there. He isn't, so Dean goes inside.

He finds the first demon easily enough, standing at a junction of three halls and talking on a phone with her back towards Dean. As soon as she hangs up Dean goes in low, and slices through her stomach from the back. She barely has time to let out a strangled sound before the orange lightning goes through her and she lies still.

Dean has trouble locating the stairs, and he runs around looking for them for a longer amount of time than he really should have before he finds them. Going up them and opening the door is easy, but when the next demon is standing right in front of it and looking at him when he comes out Dean regards it as a bad move. He leaps towards Dean, who dodges out of the way and lets him go rolling down the stairs, making an extremely loud racket. Dean winces and jumps down the stairs three at a time in order to get to the demon in time for him to stab it before he can get his bearings again.

Skipping past the second floor, Dean arrives on the third and takes five minutes to find the next demon. Or rather, she finds him.

Slamming him up against the wall, the demon narrows her eyes slightly at Dean, like she's trying to place a face.

"Wait, you're one of Alastair's, aren't you? His stink is all over you," she purrs, getting closer to Dean and keeping him held against the wall with one hand while the other traces his body.

The hand holding the knife is well and truly pinned, so Dean wrests the other out of her grip and throws some holy water on her. She screams, holding her hands to her steaming face and backs away, trying to get away from the water that Dean is still throwing at her. He stabs her in the heart and she falls down with her skin still smoking slightly.

"I need to have a shower after this," he mutters, flicking the blood off his fingers before heading towards the staircase.

Dean goes up the next set of stairs carefully, and listens at the door before opening it. It sounds like a full on melee is going on between two parties, and remembering that Cas said there was five demons plus Meg up here, Dean decides to quit wasting time and lend a hand to his angel.

Cas whirls past the door as Dean opens it, chasing a demon in order to get his hands on it. Quite literally, Dean guesses as he sees the smoking corpses of the demons, their faces burnt off and looking nauseously squishy.

Meg is standing in the corner with another demon, and her face lights up when she sees Dean.

"Dean-o! You've come and joined the party at last!"

Dean ignores her and rushes her body guard, who leaps at Dean. The demon lands on top of Dean, and he tries to breathe through the stench of sulphur. Dodging a punch aimed at his head that goes through the concrete underneath his fist, Dean takes advantage of the opportunity to stab the demon, heaving it off of him in order to stand up and look at Meg.

Dean hears the rest of the commotion in the room die down, and guesses that Cas must have finished killing all of the other demons.

Sure enough, Cas silently joins Dean at his side, looking at Meg.

"Well hello Clarence," Meg says, and Dean feels something inside him rear up at the nickname, something dark and ugly, and he quickly shoves it down because this is no place to be feeling that. There is _no_ place or time to be feeling that. Ever.

Cas narrows his eyes. "What are you doing here?" He asks instead, and Dean looks at Meg and waits for her answer.

"Oh you know, this place is on a ley line, and I needed a few of those to do what I needed to do. You know what I'm talking about, don't you Clarence?"

"Do you know where it is?" Cas asks.

"Cas? What are you talking about?"

Cas ignores Dean, devoting the intensity of his stare to Meg.

"Well this is a locating spell, so, what do you think sweet cheeks? Anyway, it's done, see you two later. Toodles!"

Meg disappears. "Can't you track her or something?" Dean asks in desperation.

"No. Demons are hidden from angels."

"Of course they are. Of friggen course."

When Dean turns to look at Castiel though, the space that had been occupied by the angel is empty. "Fucking angels," he says to the empty room.

"And that all that happened?" Charlie quizzes him from the other side of the desk.

"Yeah, we showed up, kicked some demon ass, Cas asked some real weird questions like he knew what Meg was talking about, and they both left. I cleaned up the bodies and drove straight here."

"Like Cas knew what Meg was talking about?"

"Yeah, well that's the thing," Dean looks around and lowers his voice, leaning in slightly. Charlie raises her eyebrows as she does the same. "What Cas was saying – it was like he was knew what Meg was talking about, and he wanted to know if she knew where it was, so he could get it. Meg knew he was looking for it, I'm sure. What she said before she disappeared, it sounded like she knew what Cas wanted, and she was taunting him, saying that the demons were ahead of the angels or something, using a tracking spell. That's why I think he's gone now, has been gone ever since the fight with them, he's reporting to the whoever's orders he runs on, and they're all piecing together the little hints that she was dropping throughout the conversation, trying to find whatever he was asking about."

Charlie frowns slightly, and Dean sees the lines in her forehead that are starting to be there more often, the lines that make her look older and wearier. Dean wants erase them, wants the crow's feet at the edges of her eyes to grow bigger, not the worry lines on her forehead. Ever since the whole bullshit with the angels started he's seen her frowning more and laughing less.

"I'll look into the angels wanting something, Dean, but I don't know if it's likely. And if it is, I'm going to have to extremely careful."

"Why? Just because they're angels?"

"Yes," she hisses. "Yes because they're angels, and because everyone who knows about them except some of us here want them to be good, need them to be good, just to know that there's something out there greater than them, working for the good of humanity, and at the end of the day, they'll be there when they're gone. You're only disbelieving because you can't find it in you to trust any supernatural creature after what happened with Alastair, I can't believe that they're totally good if they let all this crap happen in the first place and the rest of us just think it's too good to be true, except for Jo, because she hasn't seen any of her friends die in front of her, doesn't know what it's like to know that you're the only one who is going to care if you disappear, if you stop being you, if you use so many fake names you start to forget what your real one is. No one wants them to have a secret agenda, because if they do, what does that say about us? I'll have to tread carefully with this one Dean. Very carefully."

Dean runs a hand through his hair and nods. He feels the tiredness running through him, and he wants to go and crash but at the same time he's dreading what dreams he'll have tonight.

"Look, I'm tired and I need to go and unpack. If anyone comes by tell them I've gone home, okay?"

Charlie agrees and goes back to her typing.

Dean's phone is chiming, chiming, and he digs through his bag to find it.

"Hey Dean, I know it's late, but I wanted to call you now rather than in the morning."

"I'm up Sam."

Dean can nearly _hear_ the way that Sam narrows his eyes and tilts his head judgementally.

"Still having problems with the dreams then?"

Dean licks his lip. "So what were you calling for?"

Sam sighs, but Dean isn't going to talk to Sam now, or later, or ever if he can help it.

"Can you come up and be a witness at a case I'm on? I know I said I'd be coming down to visit this weekend, but you can come up here, and I'd still get to see you while working?"

"If you came down here then I'd get to see you, you could bring some of your dusty books and we could have a fun time sitting round working out asses off. Here. Where there's no chance of me going near a plane." Dean had been meaning to call Sam but hadn't gotten around to it. Now that his brother is asking him however, Dean can't pass up the opportunity to needle him a bit.

"I get paid a lot of money to translate those texts. Don't call them dusty."

"You did always look at the big picture Sam. And they are kind of dusty."

"No but this is an important case, and I just need a witness and you worked on this one, so it's perfect."

"God, which one?"

"From May 2002,where there was a gardener and he disturbed the grave of that spirit, remember? It knocked me out and you freaked because you thought I was dead?"

"Oh, yeah, that, I know that. Well I can ask Rufus, but no promises." Dean always remembered the cases where Sam was injured, and this had been a pretty serious one. Sam had broken four ribs and a leg, but while he had been lying there unconscious, Dean had thought he was dead.

"Thank you Dean. You can come and crash here for a few days, and spend some time with us."

"I don't think so Sam. You probably get too little sleep as it is, me being there isn't going to help. I'll book a motel, and everyone can sleep easier."

"Dean." Sam's voice is on the 'you can't argue with me I'm a lawyer' setting, and Dean sighs, already knowing that he's going to cave. "You are not going to sleep at some random motel room just so me and Jess can maybe get some more sleep when the chances of that happening are literally none."

"I haven't slept in the last two days Sam. I feel like I'm about to crash, so can you hang up so I can call Rufus and I'll text you back okay?"

Sam lets out a breath and Dean can feel him nodding over the phone. "Fine. But you are not sleeping at a hotel while you're here. And the case is in a few days, so the sooner you can get up here the better, okay?"

Dean hangs up and brings up Rufus's number. It rings for two sets and the grumpy voice of the older man comes through the receiver. "Dean? What are you calling about this late at night?"

"Can I head over to DC to be a witness in one of Sam's cases? Got to keep him in business, and I'm the only witness other than himself and I'm eighty per cent sure he can't interview himself."

"As long as you find a way to get some sleep boy. I've seen the shadows under your eyes. You need to relax, and if that'll happen if you go to DC then sure, fine, whatever. I can't have my best team member down. And you have to fly. I can't have you away for as long as it would take for you to drive."

Dean releases out a strained breath. "Really? You're gonna make me fly?"

"Your choice boy."

Dean purses his lips. "Fine, I'll go. But I'm not forgetting this."

"You can not forget this all you want, and it won't make any difference."

Dean sighs and hangs up, permission received even if he didn't like it.

He sent a text to Annie and Charlie telling them he's going up to Sam's to witness on one of his cases. Charlie texts back almost immediately wishing him a good trip, and reminding him to **go 2 sleep rite now!** Dean rolls his eyes and sends a text to Sam saying he had the permission and that he would be flying up. Sam acknowledges it, and tells him when the court was gathering. Dean turns his phone off and his computer on, trying to ignore the grittiness of his eyes and the weariness that's running through his bones. Booking his flight for the morning, he sets his alarm so he can still get up in time to catch it.

He feels like he doesn't need to use Pamela's leaves tonight, so he lays down on the bed and he feels that before he could close his eyes the alarm is buzzing him awake again. Dean stares at it blearily, wondering if his brother would hate him if he went back to sleep and missed his flight.

Oh god his _flight_.

Dean had been trying not to think about the flight.

Flying scared him shitless, and Rufus _knew_ this, knew that he hated it with a passion that edged on manic. He pushes the impending flight out of his mind, and packs his bag, showers, and locks up his apartment before racing down to street level. Catching a taxi, he sits through the traffic and watches as his city comes to life around him. People stream through the streets, the traffic becomes heavier and he makes it to the airport an hour and a half before his flight leaves. He texts his arrival time to Sam, who texts back immediately.

**You're coming today?**

**i thought id get it over with**

**Okay, I'll tell Jess and pick you up when you get here.**

Dean turns his phone off and puts it in the tray for it to be scanned, and puts it in his pocket when he gets it back. He feels rather naked with all of his weapons, picks and back up gone, only the things that would remain unidentifiable on a scanner on him. That's hardly anything though, and Dean is constantly looking around him, wondering how civilians can stand to be this exposed all the time.

It's only when he sits down on the flight and the door closes that he starts to panic.

Putting his earphones in, he selects a random track from his Metallica albums. The thrum of the music goes through his headphones comfortingly, and Den tries to ignore how the plane starts to move around him.

Four and a half hours. He could do this.

He makes it until the planes levels out before he throws up.

"Dude you owe me," Dean groans as his brother looks at him in alarm.

"Are you okay?"

"I just spent over four hours on a plane, do you think I'm okay?"

Sam takes his bag and puts it into his car, some new age one that Dean didn't want to know or think about his brother driving. Holding his head in his hands after he slides into the passenger seat, Sam still shoots him a concerned look. "Did you sleep on the plane?"

Dean looks at him like he's crazy. "Of course I didn't sleep on the plane. It's a friggen death trap, why would I sleep on it?"

Sam releases a breath and shoots a look over at Dean before he pulls out from the parking space. "You'll live."

"Only just," Dean mutters, staring out the window. DC is different to Phoenix, more crowded both in buildings and people. Sam navigates the streets with ease, something that he has done for the years that he has lived here. Sam and Jessica live on the outskirts of the city, away from the hustle of the main hub. They have an actual house, and every time Sam sees Dean's apartment he managed to find a way to ask him if he was planning on buying a house anytime soon. Dean seemingly couldn't convince his brother that he was perfectly happy with the space he had now.

The lawn is neat, and Dean can see that Jess is growing some sort of plant in the garden in front of the house, but since it was winter it just looks like a few sticks poking up from the ground with a few rounded and dead looking leaves on them.

Sam is still holding his bag, and Dean had to grab it from Sam before he could enter the house. Sam unlocks the door, and walks inside, obviously expecting Dean to follow. The clean and modern house is white and open to the air, and very contemporary. Dean can almost smell the money that's gone into the place, and he smiles at the proof of Sam's success.

Jess comes around the corner of the living room, and Dean fights back a smile at her rounded belly. "Dean! So glad you could make it, sit down, sit down, you don't look well."

"Like I was telling Sam, I just spent over four hours on a plane."

"And with your flying fear that must have been difficult. Let me grab you a beer, both of you, and you can catch up while I finish making food."

"I just kind of want to sleep," he confesses to Sam.

"Then go and lie down for a few hours. You must have gotten up early today, and don't think I forgot about how you told me you haven't slept in two days."

Dean rubs his hand over his eyes. "Sleep deprivation. Besides I slept for three hours last night."

Sam doesn't say anything and Dean looks up to see that his brother has his worried face on. "Go get some sleep Dean," he says gently. "We'll still be here."

Sam hauls him up by the shoulder and drags him over to the guest room where Dean stays when he comes over, and Dean only fights his brother half-heartedly. "Go to sleep."

Dean watches as his brother gives him a last look and closes the door before eyeing the bed with trepidation. Hoping that being away from everything would calm his dreams, he lays down on top of the covers and closes his eyes.

At least his dreams aren't about Alastair this time, Dean muses tiredly. The falling sensation is still trying to get his stomach to regurgitate its contents, and Dean is trying valiantly to keep them inside. Taking a shower had removed most of the stale sweat, and now he is just looking in the mirror above the sink, studying himself.

His eyes are bloodshot and the normally vibrant green of his pupils have been reduced to a washed out olive. There are dark shadows under his eyes, and the lines in his face are more apparent than ever. His skin looks sallow next to the white of his shirt, and Dean can see the fatigue that shadows every angle of his face. He looks ten years older than he is, and he tries to ignore the few grey hairs that are becoming more apparent throughout his hair.

No wonder Sam and half the airport had been looking at him worriedly.

Rubbing a hand over his face, Dean puts on some clothes. He had slept for a decent amount of time, since it was seven in the morning, and he can hear movement in the kitchen. When he walks out he finds his brother dolloping yoghurt on top of some muesli.

"How are you even related to me?" Dean asks, looking at Sam's breakfast with disdain.

Sam sighs. "This is good for you Dean."

"Yeah well. Do you have any real food?"

"We have some ham in the fridge, I'm pretty sure."

Dean eyes his brother and wonders why God hates him. Managing to find some cereal at the back of one of the cupboards, he pours himself a bowl of that, even though Sam claims that he's not sure how it got there.

"Probably some weird craving of Jess's."

Sam looks floored by the revelation. "So that's where all the food's been going," he mumbles. "Look, I have to go, so just hang around here, the case is tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay. You have cable here, don't you?"

Sam smiles. "Of course. After growing up in all of those dodgy motels I needed good TV no matter what. Jess complains that it's a ridiculous amount to pay, but she doesn't say anything when we get every channel around."

"Awesome."

Sam smiles and inhales the last of his muesli, dumping the bowl in the sink and grabbing his bag, yelling goodbye to Jess and waving at Dean.

Dean wonders into the living room and flicks the TV on, smirking when he goes through the channels and realises that there's a Doctor Sexy MD marathon on. An hour into it, Jess comes down and sits next to him on the couch with a tub if ice cream in her lap that she takes a spoonful of every few minutes. Dean watches as she slowly falls asleep and the spoon falls out of her hand. He stands and plucks the ice cream tub from her hands lightly, putting it back in the freezer.

Dean is startled awake by Sam placing his laptop against the couch where his head is leaning.

"So you had a good day then?" Sam asks teasingly, but Dean can see the worry that lurks underneath his brothers eyes.

"What – Uh, yeah Sammy. I must have fallen asleep." Dean looks around and sees Jess snoring on the other end of the couch. "Is she always this loud?" He asks.

Sam nods forlornly.

"Did you do anything interesting today, or just your normal lawyer slash translator stuff?"

"Kevin finished the text he's been working on for the last three months, so he was pretty pumped about that. I don't know how the kid manages it. He's younger than me, and yet he's fluent in at least seventeen languages, is fairly proficient in fifty more, and can recognise anything you put in front of him. Ancient Sumerian is a dead language, but he somehow managed to decode it. Some pretty useful stuff in there as well."

"Good for him," Dean says. "I'm going to call Charlie, make sure everything's okay down there. You gonna wake Jess?"

"No, don't. She needs the rest." Sam looks down on his wife with a tender smile and love in his eyes. It makes Dean content to know that his brother is happy in his life, even if that means that he sees less of him than he wants to.

"You can just do whatever until tomorrow. The trial starts at nine, and I need you to be ready to come with me when I leave at seven. You brought your suit, right?"

Dean nods. "I still think it's too formal."

"Don't be ridiculous, it's fine."

Sam rubs his eyes. "I'm going to go and get sleep for tomorrow okay? Remember, seven."

"Yeah Sammy, I got it."

Sam gently picks up Jess and takes her upstairs.

Dean picks up his phone and dials Charlie, waiting for her to pick up.

"Dean? Everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, just checking to makes sure that everyone fine."

"Annie and Ash teamed up to go and look at a case that is probably a shape shifter, so they'll be gone for a week or so. Other than that, it's all quiet here. Victor can walk on his own, but the doctor said not to strain it, so he's staying at home for another few days, not that he's happy about it. Everything's quiet, your angel is hanging around, Anna popped in to speak with Jo an hour ago, and Rufus and Uriel are in his office talking about something. I'm about to go home. Do you know when Sam's trial is?"

"Tomorrow."

"Then how on earth were you planning to drive there?"

Dean frowns. "Yeah, well I would have managed it."

"So you'll be back in three, four days?"

"Yes I'll spend some time with Sam and Jess before heading back."

"Okay Dean. I'll talk to you later, okay? Get some rest."

Dean doesn't say anything and Charlie exhales loudly into the phone. "Sleep! Now!" She says before hanging up.

Deciding not to push his luck with the sleep, Dean turns the TV back on, not caring which channel it lands on. He lets it lie on some kind of cheesy horror flick, and tries not to fall asleep.

"Dean?"

Dean has Sam pinned on the floor of the living room before his brother can finish the word.

Letting out a deep breath, Dean glares at Sam. "Fuck Sammy, you scared me. And your reflexes are getting loose if you let me pin you that easily. Don't wake me while I'm sleeping, okay?"

Dean relaxes his hold on his brother, letting him up before he stretches. "What's the time?"

"Quarter past six. Go and get ready, and we'll leave at seven."

Dean shakes his head to get rid of the last vestiges of sleep, showers, puts his suit on, and gobbles down some more cereal. "I'm ready to go," he says, looking around the kitchen for Sam. "Sam? Where are you?"

Sam comes down the stairs with his briefcase and laptop. "Ready to go? Great."

They get in Sam's demonic car, and drive for twenty minutes to Sam's work. The whole time Sam goes over what he needs Dean to say in order to prove his point to the court.

"Just tell the truth," Sam sums up as they pull into the car park.

Dean waits in a room until Sam calls him, and then answers all the questions that his brother asks him. Dean doesn't know the importance of half of them, but he answers anyway, and Sam smiles at him when he is told to leave.

Dean talks up a woman who was also sitting in the waiting room, not for Sam's case but for another that was going on at the same time. When she's called up Dean finds a piece of paper with the name Rebecca and a number on the seat where she was.

Dean picks it up, wondering if he'd call her.

Sam came in twenty minutes later, smiling widely and with a gleam of triumph in his eyes. "We got it! We won the case, the shopkeeper got sued, and we got paid!" Sam crows, success pouring out through every part of him. "I have to finish up the paperwork, do you want to come back into the office and meet the gang?"

Sam is looking at him, waiting for his answer. Dean looks at where the girl – _Rebecca_ – had been sitting and stands up, casting the piece of paper into the bin on his way out, not looking back.

Jess makes a pot roast in celebration. It has to feed ten, because Sam has invited over all of his lawyer friends, those that work in the firm alongside him. Dean loses track of the names after a while, but he does remember a few. Kevin, a young Asian man who is the one that Charlie raves about all the time, Adam, a younger man who was against Sam and now has to live with Sam holding that over him until he can prove his own, and Andy, who apparently can convince anyone of anything. Dean thinks the last one should be taken with a grain of salt, but the skill must be handy in a courtroom. Dean tells Kevin about Charlie and Kevin smiles slightly.

"I try my hardest. Sam's more impressive than me, honestly. He doesn't know all the languages that I do and he manages to understand and translate almost as fast as I me."

"Yeah, my little brother's pretty awesome," Dean replies, before he is whisked off by Jess to help make dessert. Jess is probably regretting asking him to help when Dean tries to eat most of the ice cream before she can even put it on the plates, and nearly sneaks off with the entire pie when she isn't looking.

Adam looks like he could be related to Sam, with his hair and body structure. Sam says that Adam is the one he works most closely with, and is one of his closest friends. Dean shakes his hand and says that he's glad to meet him.

Ansem, Ava, Jake and Lily are the others that Sam invited over, and Dean talks to them all in the next few hours. When they leave, Dean thinks that his brother has a pretty good life here.

Jess asks him to clean up, since she's feeling exhausted, and Dean ushers her upstairs nearly before she can finish the sentence. He knows that she really is tired when she doesn't complain once.

Another hour goes past, where Dean washes, wipes and cleans every surface he can find, and Sam joins him for a bit before going upstairs as well. Dean doesn't begrudge his brother, since he spent the entire day on a high, first from nerves and adrenaline and then from happiness.

Dropping off to sleep in the spare room, Dean thinks that this may have been exactly what he needed when he doesn't dream about anything.

Sam doesn't get up for an hour after Dean does, and Dean spends the time looking through his brother's cupboards for any actual food, smirking to himself when he keeps finding items like chocolate, strange looking fruits, and a pile of McDonald's receipts in different corners the cupboards. He leaves those alone, and is making bacon and eggs in a pan when Sam confusedly comes down the staircase, blinking and rubbing his eyes.

"Does Jess want any?"

"She says that if you don't make her any she'll rip yours out of your stomach and eat them like that."

"Wow. Okay then. Adding more bacon and eggs, check."

Dean pops the last toast down in the toaster as Jess comes down. Eyeing the food, she waits until Dean has completed putting the food on one plate before she grabs it and puts it on the dining table, eating like the world depends on it. Dean and Sam watch her fondly, before Dean nudges Sam with a plate of his own. Dean finishes making his own breakfast just as Jess finishes and steals his plate as well.

"Hey!" Dean says, watching in dismay as that begins to disappear as well.

"Remember what I said about the ripping thing?" Jess asks through a mouthful of food, so it sounds more like 'rememer wha I sad bout ta rippin thang?'

"Still," Dean laments. "Food." He picks up the lone piece of bacon that survived, and eats that before Jess can steal it as well.

Dean stays for two more days and three nights before he books his plane ride for early in the morning. The whole time Jess either eats, sleeps, watches TV with Dean and occasionally complains about how there's no baby brochures anywhere. Sam has the first day off, and then he's constantly translating in his office, his dictionaries around him and the whole place reeking of old book.

They both hug him, and although Dean might put up a fuss, he likes the attention and he's pretty sure that the others see right through him and know that he likes it.

Catching a taxi towards the airport, he goes through the process of boarding the plane more leniently than usual, being with his brother for a few days putting his tolerance levels up. He still can't ignore the fact that he is boarding a plane however much he tries, and as the departure time gets closer and closer he becomes more and more nervous.

Dean eyes the boarding area with apprehension. Sighing, he walks up and goes through. Plugging his earphones in, he turns his music up so he can't hear the engines turning over.

Pleased with himself for not throwing up as the plane levels out, Dean listens to his music repeat itself, starting the tracks again.

Humming along to the music, Dean almost misses the small fluttering sound next to him, and it's only the hunter instincts that have saved his life so many times that had him snapping his eyes open and jerking away from the empty seat next to him.

Or the not so empty seat next to him.

Cas looks calmly at him. "Have I told you that you're going to give me a heart attack one day?"

"Yes. Though I don't see how I could influence the blood in your heart, making it clot and giving you a heart attack."

"You're gonna scare me to death one day Cas. I mean it. With your whole disappearing reappearing act."

"Flying is how I travel Dean. It would not make any sense to move as you do when I can move to where I want to when I want to be there."

"Yeah, yeah, don't rub it in. Do you have any reason for being here, besides scaring the living shit out of me, and potentially, freaking out the airplane people when they realise that they have one more passenger then they expected?"

"The other people cannot see me."

"So I look like I'm talking to myself?"

"Yes."

"Awesome," Dean says. _Now everyone's going to think I'm nuts. _

"Rufus asked me to find you and tell you that he has not heard from Annie and Ash since they left for Arkansas. It's been three days, and they normally check in every day. He told me that as soon as you get back we shall leave to check on them."

Dean rubs his eyes. _At least I got a decent amount of sleep last night_, he thinks. "Crap. Ash always makes sure to call every day."

"That is what Charlie said."

"We've got," Dean checks his watch. "Two hours on this death trap left, and then an hour for me to gather my stuff, and then two days to drive there. By which time it'll probably be too late to save them from whatever had them."

Cas doesn't say anything, and Dean looks over to the angel, only to see his empty seat. Dean shakes his head and puts his music back on, contemplating how his life has changed in the last few weeks.


	4. To The Roadhouse

Profound Bond – Chapter Four

Castiel watches as Dean talks to Rufus and gathers his weapons, preparing for his journey to Arkansas. Rufus gives Dean all the relevant information, and Castiel can feel Uriel hovering around his given partner, watching, but not wishing to interact with the humans. Castiel has never understood his brothers disdain them, how Uriel and Balthazar look down on the humans that they work and relate with.

Castiel watches Dean mostly. It has more to do with the fact that he is immensely interested with this small human and less to do with the fact that he was assigned to be Dean's partner.

Well, not assigned really. It was Castiel's watching that first brought him to this place, when he observed Dean's soul for the first time. Zachariah had made himself known to the ones who run the building, and they had in turn told Dean and those that he worked with.

Castiel had begged, pleaded, pulled in favours, and reasoned with Zachariah, all trying to convince the superior angel that he should be assigned Dean as a partner instead of Uriel or Zachariah himself. He had said that Dean would cooperate better with him than then, but he had had to say it tactically, since he did not want to offend either of his siblings. Castiel had, with the support of Anael, been given Dean as his charge and partner on earth.

When Castiel had first looked at his soul nearly two years ago, it had been more tattered and shredded than it is now. The creases and tears in the soul had slowly been knitting together, until recently, when they had begun to tear anew once more.

This had puzzled Castiel, but he saw no way he could fix it, so he did not bring up the topic with Dean.

Out of all the humans that Castiel had watched over millennia of being assigned to look over earth, Dean was the most intriguing soul Castiel had ever come across. He was broken, shattered, and yet still kept going, learning and fixing, and somehow even through its tears and scratches, Castiel could see a steady light, something that shined no matter what state the rest of Dean's soul was in. It was fascinating, that light, which draws Castiel in like a moth to flame, and is just as deadly.

It was the main argument he had presented to his superiors to convince them that Dean was the one they needed. When they had witnessed Dean's soul, they too had agreed, but Castiel had thought that they did not feel the same pull that he did, the urge to return to the human time after time.

It had started out as purely business, but over an alarmingly short period of time Castiel found himself studying Dean's soul simply because he wished to, simply because he found it beautiful to look at.

He made sure that his Grace was shielded from the Host when he spent time in Dean's apartment so that no angel could find him without asking for his location. He made sure that none of his thoughts on Dean made it out to his siblings, except for the ones he wished to share.

Castiel had never tried to hide things from his family before, and he was realising why those that tried could never keep it up for long. The constant strain of having to control what you are thinking about is very draining, especially when he is prone to think of Dean anytime during the day, when something reminded him of the human.

More and more things are beginning to remind Castiel of Dean.

The human is slowly but surely worming his way into Castiel's thoughts, suddenly there when he should not be. It is beginning to make Castiel rather annoyed, both at his thoughts and the subject of them. He is not used to not having control over his own mind.

Maybe that is why he waits until Dean is in Arkansas to appear to him. Most of the time he spends invisibly watching Dean, as he either sleeps or drives. Sometimes Anael would tell him that Zachariah wished to see him, and he would cast one last look at Dean before flying to Heaven to answer whatever questions Zachariah had for him. He tries to keep it as short as possible, each time wanting to return to Dean so he could watch over the human.

"Cas," Dean said. Since Castiel had been sitting on the couch in Dean's motel room and had not appeared next to him, Dean had not jumped and swore or blasphemed when he had become aware of Castiel's presence.

Castiel tries to frown at the nickname, but it is becoming more and more natural to respond to the shortened version of his name. Especially when it comes out of Dean's mouth.

Dean doesn't look entirely pleased to see him, but he also doesn't appear unhappy to see Castiel either, so he supposes he can stay.

"Hello Dean," Castiel responds. The green eyed man pulls on a shirt, having just got out of the shower.

"You weren't perving on me in the shower were you?" The hunter asks, a thread of humour running over the concern in his voice.

Castiel blinks, and tilts his head slightly. "I see no reason why I would 'perve' on you while you were cleaning yourself. Especially since I could know and see your physical form anytime I wished."

Dean's mouth fell open slightly, and he splutters out a _"What?"_

"Your clothing is simply layers of fabric. They are no barrier to an angel's eye, if we wish to see what is underneath."

Dean has his mouth parted slightly and his soul is letting off low levels of distress. It is hard to see past the tattering, but Castiel can divine that much.

"You haven't ever looked at me, have you?" The human's voice was several notes higher than usual, and Castiel was once more confused by humans. Why would Dean's voice rise?

"Why would the pitch of your voice rise Dean?" Castiel asks him. Dean's eyes widen slightly and Castiel watches in fascination as blood diverts to his cheeks, staining them red.

"No reason. No reason at all," Dean says. Castiel feels his mouth purse slightly, and he's momentarily distracted by the way that he's picking up human habits against his will.

He's confused, since Dean's voice has risen another note, but since Dean looks uncomfortable, Castiel decides to go back to the original topic.

"No, I have no reason to look at you. Why would I want to?" It would not be something that Castiel would avoid, but that is simply because he sees Dean for his soul. It is harder to see the cotton overlaying him than it is to simply watch the ebb and flow of his soul, and listen to the rhythmic tone of his voice. Castiel is not sure why the humans place so much value on what they put over their bodies. It is one of the things that make them so very strange, he decides. Maybe it is because they cannot see each other's souls.

"Oh, um, cool, I guess." The blood that had run to Dean's face was now staining his neck as well.

Castile decides that yes, humans are very strange creatures.

"Have you contacted Annie or Ash yet?" Castiel asks, sure that Dean would appreciate talking about his work rather than whatever they were talking about classified as.

He sees that his right when Dean takes a deep breath to calm himself, and Castiel watches in interest as he sees Dean's soul shifting, becoming more focused and formal. More businesslike, Castiel presumes.

"Yeah, I've tried to find them and I've come up with nothing so far. I found the hotel that they were staying in, but the manager told me that they had not been through in four days, and that he did not know where they had gone on the last day that they had disappeared. He gave me the key to the apartment after I showed him my badge and he called Rufus to confirm that I was serious, and I found no clues there as to what they were doing that day, and no leads in the hunt. Annie keeps it all in a notebook that she keeps on her at all times, and that's not there, so I don't know where they were up to, or what they suspected. All I know is what they told Charlie, and all that that is that they suspect that it's a shape shifter, and that it's nesting in the hills and caves just past town, and coming in for a snack and a bite to eat whenever it gets the nibbles."

"If you wish, I can search the town for traces of them," Castiel offers. He's not sure why until he sees Dean smile tiredly at him. It wakes something inside Castiel, and he takes a moment to check that he is not connected to the Host, to make sure that no one else is listening to his thoughts and feelings. There isn't, and he stretches his wings for a second in relief before turning his attention back to Dean.

"That'd be great, thanks Cas."

Castiel nods slightly and opens his wings, carefully going through the town, checking every room and building for traces of two souls that are more familiar than the rest. He finds traces of them in the very small sewer system and at some houses where grief and despair hang and Castiel has to duck and weave around the dark shadows of its presence.

He does not find Annie or Ash, but he tells Dean of the traces that he felt while investigating the town. Only five minutes have passed, and Castiel can tell that Dean is trying not to be impressed with what the angel accomplished.

"Yeah, they would've gone down to the sewers to make sure that the shape shifter couldn't live down there, and the sad houses would be the family of the victims. I'd say that they're in the caves." Dean starts to gather equipment, torches and ropes for climbing, silver bullets and guns for defence against the shape shifter.

"Are you planning to leave now?" Castiel asks. He can see weariness blooming from Dean's soul and could hear the creak and groan of his muscles and bones as he stands.

"Yeah. If I wait until morning then who knows what could happen to them during the night."

Castiel thinks that it would be better if Dean slept and rested before going up against the shape shifter, but Dean would know what was best for his body.

"Very well," Castiel says. He would fly Dean to the cave system, but that would mean doing what he is not yet prepared to do simply for the convenience of travelling quickly.

He walks next to Dean and opens the door to the car. He spends the entire drive watching Dean seeing the unease that was gradually edging its way through Dean's soul, but he keeps watching, content to look until Dean asks him otherwise.

"Can you stop doing that?" Dean finally asks, and Cas can hear the discomfort running through his tone.

"Of course," he replies, turning to look straight out the window for a few minutes, before he unwillingly begins to watch Dean in the rear view mirror instead. Dean seems oblivious until he looks upwards to check the cars behind them and swerves as his eyes meet Castiel's, swearing under his breath.

"Really Cas?"

"My apologies." Castiel lowers his brows for a second, taking his eyes off Dean and once more looking forwards. He is an angel. He should be able to control himself.

When he feels his eyes once more slowly moving towards Dean again, he yanks his gaze forward. Why did the human have this effect on him?

"I need to speak with Anael," Castiel tells Dean. He barely gives the human a second to look over to him before he spreads his wings and soars upwards, searching for his sister's Grace. When he cannot find it, he sends a message to her.

_Anael where are you? _

_Castiel? Is anything wrong?_

_Nothing urgent. I wish to speak with you._

Anael reveals her location, standing in the currently empty viewing platform in a large building. Castiel flies towards it, and Anael looks as composed as usual when he appears in front of her.

"Yes Castiel? What is bothering you?"

Now that he is standing in front of his sister, Castiel shifts his weight from foot to foot, stopping himself when he realises what he is doing. Anael looks at him knowingly, and Castiel knows that she can make time for him, that she will listen to him if he asks her to stay. Anael is the leader of their garrison, and Castiel is second in command. However, even if this were not true, Castiel believes that Anael would still make the time for him.

"Castiel?" Anael is starting to look concerned.

"I believe I may be… malfunctioning."

Anael frowns and he feels it when she hides their presence and their thoughts from Heaven. He shakes off the exhaustion that suddenly weighs on his wings. More lies, more things to hide from Heaven, from his family.

"What do you mean Castiel?" Anael takes a step closer. Castiel knows that of all his siblings Anael would be the one to understand the most. No angel can truly understand emotions, and that is what Castiel fears the most out of his current situation. Emotion. Even the fact that he fears it is a sign of it. Castiel knows that Anael considered falling several decades ago, and even though he talked her out of it, she kept the edge of humanity she gained just by considering it.

Castiel is mostly afraid because only fallen angels feel.

He opens his Grace and presses it against Anael's, this way of communicating far more efficient than talking. His sister receives what he sends her, and he gives her a minute to sort through everything.

When she finishes, Anael smiles sadly at Castiel. "I cannot help you with this Castiel. You must find your way through this yourself. However, I feel it would be prudent not to speak of this to anyone else."

"Yes, I knew that if I spoke to anyone about it, it would be you," Castiel confides lowly.

Anael sighs. "I truly cannot help you with this Castiel. You must decide what you want to do yourself. I will support you in whatever you choose, but do not let our superiors see anything, and do not let it interfere with our work here on earth. You know what happens to angels that are caught acting out."

Castiel shivers. _Termination or re-education_. He isn't sure which is worse.

"Thank you Anael," he murmurs, looking out the window to where he knows Dean is travelling alone up to where his colleagues are held.

"Just trust yourself Castiel. You know what is best for you." With this, Anael flies away, and he loses track of her as soon as she is out of his sight. She keeps the shielding up, and Castiel takes the time to wonder briefly where she is going and what she is doing. Castiel lets out a breath, and opens his wings, letting the wind take him back to where he wishes to be.

Dean is getting out of his car when Castiel appears behind him. The hunter tries to hide how he startles at Castiel's appearance, but Castiel can sense the tension in his muscles and he knows that Dean should have rested before coming out here. Castiel is only just beginning to sense that Dean was inclined to sacrifice his time, energy, sleep and apparently life for his friends and family. Castiel would not let that happen, but he thought that Dean could perhaps take better care of himself.

"Hey Cas. You sorted out all your angel stuff?"

Castiel nods, and follows Dean as he winds his way towards the start of the cave system where Annie and Ash had gone to find the shape shifter. Castiel can smell its stink everywhere, and he can also sense the two vaguely familiar souls somewhere in the cave system.

"I can sense Annie and Ash's souls. They are still alive."

Dean looks at him, face hopeful. "Can you locate them?"

Castiel shakes his head. "I am not that familiar with their souls, so I cannot pinpoint their location. They're below us though. Under the hill, in the bottom caves."

"Of course," Dean mutters. "Anyway, it was more than we had. Come on."

Castiel follows Dean into the dark hollow where the cave starts, watching the brighter area where Dean flicks his torch on. Castiel doesn't need the light, and if he is being honest with himself he prefers the darkness, but he understands that the human cannot see without it. Dean chooses paths that look well used, and since those are the ones which are more used by the shape shifter Castiel is content to let Dean lead the way. Castiel senses that these caverns wind their way down to nearly the bedrock. He extends his senses out through the caverns, but the stench of the creature makes him gag slightly and he pulls the senses back, only keeping enough to see without the light that Dean is holding and to sense if the creature is within fifty metres of them. He could easily fly through the caves to search, but he would rather not, as the residue the creature has left is thick, sticky and disgusting, and he would rather keep his wings out of it. This shape shifter is old, and powerful. Castiel is not surprised that even such accomplished hunters like Annie and Ash could not dispatch it.

When Dean tries to go down a lesser used path Castiel places his hand on the hunters shoulder. Dean tenses suddenly and Castiel wonders if he had forgotten that he isn't alone down here.

"Not that way Dean."

Dean looks back at him with his eyebrows raised and makes a gesture with his hands that Castiel takes to mean 'then which way?'

Castiel points to the smaller passage, and Dean winces as he turns towards it. The smaller path steeply descends into the earth, with numerous holes and unstable rock which could easily fall apart. Castiel grabs Dean's elbow in order to keep the human from falling down a hole that turns into a chute that turned into a three hundred metre fall.

Dean stumbles and Castiel pulls him back from the hole and turns him onto a safer path. Dean shakes off his hand as he continues down the path. Castiel shakes his head at the emotion that wells up inside him, shedding it like water off a ducks back.

The minutes turn to hours and Castiel can nearly see the weariness that plagues Dean now, the aching of his muscles that he really should have rested before coming here.

The fact that the shape shifter had not yet made an appearance is beginning to make Castiel nervous.

"Dean?"

Dean turns, and suppresses a wince when his body protests.

Castiel thinks that if he claims that he wants to rest because of Dean then Dean would refuse to stop, so he takes the other cause of action.

"What is it Cas?"

"I am… tired?" The angel attempts to mimic what he had heard humans say when they are weary. Dean looks ready to call him out on his lie, but then seems to reconsider.

"Wow, thought that angels didn't need rest Cas," Dean says as he settles into the curve of a rock. He lets out a sigh as he lets himself relax.

"We are creatures as well Dean. We are not indestructible."

"Really? What harms an angel?"

"There are a number of things that can."

Dean waits for a few seconds before responding. "Wow, that's astonishingly vague."

Castiel turns his head to stare at Dean. "If I did not know your weaknesses then would you tell me yours?"

Dean huffs out a breath. "Yeah that makes sense I guess. No tips whatsoever?"

Castiel frowns, not wanting Dean to be harmed if it could be helped. "Very few people can hear the true voice of an angel without being inflicted with permanent hearing damage or extreme injury to their eardrums. The same thing applies for seeing an angel's true form. If one of us tells you to close your eyes, or we start glowing, you do that, and it would probably be helpful to cover your ears as well."

"And if you don't?"

"Your eyes get burnt from your skull."

Dean leans back. "Okay then, angel 101. Anything else you can share with me?"

"You make it sound like I should not be telling you this," Castiel looks down at Dean while he says it, and watches as Dean looks away uncomfortably.

"Well why are you telling me this? I thought you were meant to be all high and mighty and inconceivable and above us all."

"'All' being humans?"

"Well, yeah obviously."

Castiel hasn't taken his eyes off Dean the entire conversation, and neither has he sat down. "Maybe some humans are better than others."

"Dude, that sounds like a bad pick up line."

Castiel frowns. "What is a 'pick up line'?"

Dean closes his eyes briefly and Castiel wonders what he is thinking about. Most likely the best way to define his phrase.

"It's when you pick someone up." Castiel shakes his head, signalling that he still doesn't understand. "With a line. Usually cheesy." Castiel shakes his head again. Dean sighs like he's giving up. "For sex. A pick up line is where you try to convince someone to have sex with you."

"That seems complicated."

"Some people find it hard, while it's easier for others." Dean laughs at something, and Castiel looks around trying to find something funny. He decides that Dean is simply strange and human when he finds nothing.

"And you would classify what I just said as a 'pick up line'?"

Dean shifts and Castiel can sense discomfort coming off the human. "I said like a pick up line, not one."

"Very well," Castiel says, extending his reach to search for the shape shifter. He turns his head in alarm when he senses it moving quickly toward them, from not very far away.

"Cas? What is it?"

"The shape shifter. It is coming here."

Dean immediately stands, grabbing his gun and checking to make sure that everything in it is working. "How far away?"

Castiel doesn't have to answer when they both hear the rumble growl echo through the cave. "Very close."

"No shit Sherlock," Dean mumbles.

Castiel frowns at Dean. "My name is not Sherlock."

Dean takes a second to look like he's regretting his life choices.

Castiel turns and slips his blade into his hand. He doubts Dean can see it, what with how the hunter is waving the torch light everywhere, trying to see where the threat is coming from.

Leaping towards Dean, Castiel throws his blade and hisses when it misses, flying through the air with a twisting spin. Castiel flies and catches it before it can hit the cave wall, but now that it knows that he is not human, it is far more interested in him than Dean.

"I aven't com ecros ona yu in a long tim'," the shape shifter growls, and Castiel is suddenly overwhelmed by how old this creature is. It's as rare as coming across a three hundred year old human, and just as valuable.

Castiel sees Dean scrunch up his face in disgust before aiming his gun, thinking that the shape shifter had forgotten about him. Castiel knew he was wrong; no creature would have lived for this long by forgetting there was a hunter at its back.

Sure enough when Dean fires, it had already leaped out of the way, and Castiel frowns as he spends half a second plucking the round from his chest. Dean looks on unbelievingly.

"I believe it is your time to walk the forests of Purgatory old one. Let me guide you there."

The shape shifter growls and launches itself as Castiel, and the angel meets it half way.

He holds the creature at arm's length, his palm on its forehead, and releases the power that he holds inside him. He can only imagine how he looks to Dean – the flashlight is facing away from the angel and the shape shifter, so the only light would be coming from Castiel's palm. Surrounded by darkness, it would be very likely that only their faces and parts of their bodies could be seen by the white light. The energy is ruffling its fur violently, and Castiel can feel where his own hair, along with his jacket and tie are flapping around wildly.

When he is finished, and the creature is a pile of smouldering ash at his feet, he looks over at Dean calmly, who is staring with his mouth slightly open. "Whoa," the hunter stutters out, retrieving the flashlight.

"You ignored me," Castiel tells him, walking to where the two souls of the hunters were, still deeper underground.

"What?" Dean asks confusedly.

"I said to look away if we start glowing, or you could lose your eyes. You ignored me Dean."

Dean is silent for the rest of the way down to the main cavern.

"I can't believe we're still alive!" Ash triumphantly declares, taking a swig from his flask. "Beastie's dead, and we're not, I'm saying a good day for everyone."

Dean clinks his glass against Annie's. Cas is the only one without a drink, declining one on the grounds that he 'did not need sustenance.' Dean wants to tell Cas that alcohol isn't exactly essential, but decides not to. The angel had done some good work today, and he isn't going to press the issue if Cas doesn't want anything.

"I'm going to detour to Bobby's on the way back , and then the Roadhouse, okay? It's a bit out of the way, but I've got part of my library to give him and I need to talk to him about getting new books, as well as make sure that Jo's alright. She's probably up there, so I'll go detour through Nebraska, check in on her. You guys fine to make your way back to HQ?"

"Yeah, we'll be fine Dean." Annie says. "Go and bribe the old man with new books. Sometimes I think it's the only reason he keeps up his relationship with you."

Dean smiles and makes sure that they both are okay to head back before getting in the Impala and closing the door. They had been tied up in the basement of the cave along with two corpses. Neither of them had been hurt and Dean counted his lucky stars for that. One or both of them could have easily been dinner.

Cas appears beside him with a rustle. "Are we headed to South Dakota or Nebraska first?"

Dean hadn't counted on taking the angel with him, but he figures that Cas would have to run off on some angel business before he gets anywhere, so Dean would welcome the company, as angelic and slightly creepy as it was.

"Up to Bobby's. He said he'd be there for the next few days but after that he's leaving. So we only have until then."

Cas nods and settles back into the front seat, his spine still too straight, his gaze still too direct, but Dean's learning that the angel doesn't mean to do these things. It's unconscious, and Cas probably doesn't even know that what he does marks him out as different from the rest of the population. Only some things stand out about him anymore, like how when Dean touches him, he feels cold and hard, like he had been hollowed out and re-filled with concrete.

"I thought you said that staring at people was not something that you did in your culture?" Cas asks curiously. He is looking back at Dean, and Dean's not sure how long they've been looking at each other.

Dean wrenches his gaze away from the angel, starting the Impala's engine and resolutely looking at the road. "Yeah, we don't."

When Dean let himself look at the angel twenty miles later, Cas is still looking confused.

Cas is still there when Dean is pulling into Bobby's caryard, two days later. The days of driving hadn't been as weird as he would have expected, Cas silent most of the time, content to either stare at Dean when he thinks Dean isn't looking, or watching the countryside pass out the window. The few times he speaks, he asks about Dean's favourite books, music, food, colour. Dean tells him – Slaughter House Five, Led Zeppelin, pie, blue – and then asks the questions at Cas. Cas deliberates over each of them, and sometimes it's hours later that Cas will suddenly say 'I've never had the chance to listen to music so I do not have an opinion' or 'the colour green has a nice wavelength.' Dean stores these little nuggets of knowledge, somewhere where he keeps every thought about the angel. They might not particularly like each other by the time the drive is over, but Dean feels like they've reached some sort of peace, and the idea is only strengthened in his mind when his dreams taper off slightly.

Maybe he could get over his fear, and work with Cas like he was any other person.

He hadn't expected Cas to still be here at the end of the drive, but he would take the opportunity to introduce the older hunter and the angel while he had it.

Dean knocks on the front door. Bobby's truck is still here so the older hunter had not left early for whatever he had to do later in the week. When Dean hears a gruff 'come in', from inside, he smiles slightly and opens the door.

The angel follows him silently inside, and Dean places his first armful of books down on Bobby's counter with a slight thump.

"That had better be books and not your boots boy!" Bobby yells from the basement.

"I wouldn't sit down so soon old man!" Dean shouts back. He heads back outside and gives an armful of books to Cas, who looks at them bemusedly. "Make yourself useful, carry some books inside."

Cas blinks and all the books disappear, from the Impala's trunk and from the angel's hands.

Dean looks in, and they're all piled next to where he had just put down the original lot. "Oh come on, that's just showing off," he complains. "You'll make someone jealous if you keep flaunting those powers of yours. Honestly," Dean huffs.

Bobby comes into the dining room, wiping grime of his hands with a towel that looks like it is only adding grease, not removing it. "Dean? Who's your friend?" Bobby asks, looking suspiciously at Cas.

"Oh yeah. Bobby, this is Castiel. Cas, this is Bobby. He basically raised me, so you're obliged to be nice to him."

Cas walks forward, offering a hand. "Dean has informed me that humans shake hands upon meeting one another."

Bobby shakes Cas's hand, and only then does his words seem to register. "Humans?"

Dean rubs his chin, deciding just to hit the older man over the head with the information. "Umm, Bobby, Cas is also an angel."

Bobby turns wary eyes on Cas, looking him up and down. "Angel eh?"

"That is correct Robert Singer."

Bobby looks uneasy at the use of his full name, and half turns like he's ready to leave the room to get his shotgun. "It's okay Bobby. The Bureau is participating in a program with them… Cas is one of the angels assigned to work with us on earth."

"What have I told you about supernatural creatures Dean?"

Dean sighs. "I know, I know. But work, what can you do?"

Bobby grunts out an assent to that. "Where are my books?"

"You're leaning on them."

Bobby stands up straight. "You didn't get time to bring those in."

"Cas was showing off."

"I was not showing off."

"You were too showing off."

"Shut up the both of ya. Dean, you can browse through, take whatever you need. Just don't touch the ones in my study. I haven't catalogued them yet."

Dean nods and starts to walk around the room. Bobby goes back into the basement after casting one last look at Cas, like he can't quite believe what Dean was bringing home, before going back to whatever he had been doing before.

"What are you looking for?" Cas asks quietly.

"Anything I haven't read that looks like it might have information that also looks interesting. And are in English. I have Sam to do all the translating work, I don't need to put up with that as well."

Cas cocks his head, and in a second there are a pile of books beside him. "There is no true information inside these."

"And how do you know that?" Dean asks, looking at the pile of books.

"I have read them all, and these ones have no truth inside them."

"Right," Dean drawls. He picks up the pile and puts them in a corner, scribbling a note on top that tells Bobby that these books are all fictional, and to say thanks to Cas for letting them know.

Picking up books at random, Dean flicks through them to make sure they're in English, and then checks the title and the subject so he can see if it's on anything interesting. Anything on demons is immediately put back where Dean had picked it up from.

Cas is wondering around as well, trailing his hands over book spines and looking at the numerous books attentively. Dean plunks the books he had down on the table in the middle of the room which is relatively free of clutter, and goes into the hallway to search for anything else that catches his eye.

The phones ring a few times every hour for the four hours that Dean browses through Bobby's books. He eventually finds himself rummaging through Bobby's freezer, trying to see what he can find for dinner. He comes up with some mince, and humming happily, finds Bobby's pan and starts making burgers. He finds some sad looking tomato in Bobby's fridge and cuts that up, before setting some frozen bread out for it to thaw.

Half an hour later he's hollering for Bobby, who comes up into the kitchen. "I've never got used to you commandeering my kitchen boy. The last time I had a meal that wasn't out of a box…" Bobby pauses, thinking it over. "I'm not even sure." He takes the plate, and Dean picks up his. Cas had been standing behind the bench after Dean had shooed him out of the kitchen for getting in the way.

"Here you go Cas." Dean puts a plate in front of Cas, and the angel frowns at it.

"I do not eat Dean."

Dean sighs. "Yeah, but I made it for you, so it'd be rude if you didn't eat it. You don't want to be rude do you?"

Cas looks conflicted. "I've never eaten anything before," he confesses.

"There's a first time for everything."

Cas still looks confused, so Dean pulls up two seats. "Sit down." The angel does. "Now pick up the burger. And take a bite."

Cas purses his lips before doing as Dean suggests. He sits there for a minute before Dean tells him to chew. The angel swallows and looks down at his plate.

"I think… I like it?"

"Good. Now eat the rest."

Dean watches as Cas meticulously consumes the burger, not leaving a crumb on the plate. He takes longer than Dean, and he sits watching the angel for another five minutes before Cas finishes.

"Thank you Dean. I enjoyed that."

"Cool. I'll cook for you some other time then."

Dean cleans up and does the washing up after everyone is done. Cas picks each dish up and puts it down, except it's dry when it touches the counter. Dean takes the time to clean up all the other dishes he finds around the house, a silent thank you to Bobby for letting him take some of his books and letting him crash here.

It's past one by the time Dean finishes cleaning up all the dishes he can find around the house and has put them all away. He doesn't touch the books, since Bobby has his own sorting method that appears to be random if anyone else looks at it, but if you put one book back in the wrong place, he'd know about it.

"You got anywhere to be?" Dean asks Cas. The angel shakes his head. "We can stay up, talk about stuff?"

Cas frowns slightly. "I would prefer it if you slept," the angel says.

Dean rubs the back of his neck. "Yeah, well, so would I," he mutters.

Cas is looking at him again, head tilted to the side slightly. "Sleep, Dean. We can talk more in the morning."

"Are you even still going to be here in the morning?" Cas hasn't left his side in days, and he thinks he's beginning to like the angel, against all odds.

"If I have to leave I will wake you," Cas promises.

Dean nods. He's not sure if he can do anything else.

Taking his pack, he walks down to the spare room, noting how Cas settles down on the couch, and how a book filled with strange looking scribbles appears in his hands. Swallowing some of Pamela's medicine with water, Dean pulls the covers up over him and sends out his now daily wish for no dreams.

Cas is sitting on the hood of the Impala when Dean wakes in a cold sweat. Dean can see him out the window, staring up at the sky with his eyes closed, coat haphazardly rumbled up around him with his hands folded together on his stomach.

He showers, trying to wash off the memory of the dream. Wondering if it would be impolite to start drinking at such an early hour, Dean reasons that it _is_ Bobby's house that he's at right now.

The angel is leaning against the windscreen, and Dean watches as he silently raises a hand to acknowledge him. Cas is still staring up at the sky, watching as it turns from black to a dark blue, the first rays of the rising sun peeking up over the horizon.

Dean finds bacon, but no eggs in the fridge, so he fries enough for Cas and himself, taking a plate with some bread out to the angel an placing it on the Impala's hood before leaving silently. When he comes out an hour later, Cas is gone but the plate is empty, so Dean assumes that he's coming back.

"Your angel friend leave?" Bobby asks.

"For now. He'll be back."

"What are you messing around with Dean? What are you playing with? I remember the summer of 06. That was not a pretty year, and it had angels all through it." Bobby looks at Dean, trying to figure out what could have prompted the younger man to participate in such a scheme. "What about your dreams? Sam's told me they're getting worse."

Not for the first time, Dean regrets telling anyone that he can't sleep at night.

"I don't know Bobby. Rufus says that we're 'fostering relationships' with them, making sure that they won't all sweep down on us one day and randomly decide that they should kill us all. I wasn't sure at first, but I think that it's a way to get knowledge out of them, to see what their weaknesses are in order to give us an advantage if they ever do decide to fight against us. Some of me just thinks the Bureau wants them for firepower, wants us to convince them that they should side with America if a war between humans started. And my dreams have nothing to do with this, and they are not getting worse. I'm fine."

Bobby looks at him disbelievingly. "Oh sure, you're _fine_." Dean half flinches at the sarcasm in the older man's voice. Bobby could still bring it. "I don't believe it."

Dean knew that Bobby wouldn't press the issue, since he isn't that type of person. Bobby's only letting Dean know he can talk if he wants to. Dean doesn't intend to take him up on his offer, but it's a slight relief to know that he can go somewhere if he had to.

"So tell me about your angel friends."

Dean had never kept anything from Bobby if the old man asked, and this is no exception. He tells Bobby about how the angels had come and had chosen partners out of the SPN team and the normal units as well. How they just seemed to hover, occasionally helping with hunts or information gathering, but otherwise not doing much of anything.

"So what are they here for? Do you know?" Dean shakes his head.

"I don't know. I think it has something to do with what Meg was saying, and the questions that Cas was asking. They're looking for something, I know that much. I asked Charlie to dig into it, but she said that she'll have to go about it really carefully to make sure that no one finds out that she's looking for why the angels are actually here. I think that I'll just have to wait and see what's going to happen with them."

Bobby grunts, taking a sip of his beer. Dean had taken a beer as well, since Bobby had offered. "I don't think there's anything else you can do Dean, not unless you want to get fired and then have the FBI on your tail, looking for you to make sure that you don't spill any state secrets. You're pretty high up on the food chain, aren't you?"

"Yeah, just by knowing about the supernatural we're above a lot of other units. But we also don't know stuff that some of the others do. We keep to our job, and make sure that they don't interfere with it, and we keep out of their way. We're known as the silent team, since no one knows anything about us, and we don't talk about what we work about, but they have orders to do what we say if we ask them to do something. They don't know why, but those are their orders. Nobody asks though. They know that there's stuff they don't know about that we do, and we like to keep it that way."

Bobby nods. "And yet you tell me anything I ask."

"But not all that you ask is all that I know old man," Dean tells the hunter. Bobby nods slowly at this, looking at Dean considerately.

"You probably want to talk to Ellen."

"Yeah, I was going to go down there on the way back to Phoenix."

"That's one hell of a detour."

Dean shrugs. "Eh. It's worth it. If Ellen found out that I had been up here but not to see her, she'd have my head, and Bill wouldn't talk to me for a few months, just for making her upset."

Bobby nods. "True. I've got to go tomorrow, but you can stick around until then. Do you know if the angel's gonna show back up?"

"You never know with Cas," Dean confesses. "Sometimes he'll stay for days on end. Other times, you won't see him for a week. He'll be around though."

Bobby casts a sceptical look at him. "If you say so. You need to fix anything on your car, the garage is open."

Dean smiles. "Thanks Bobby. Yeah, I was hearing a rattle up on the way here. I want to have a look at her."

"Then don't let me stop you. I have things to do, phones to answer, cases to research. You go and do your thing, have your break from work."

Bobby leaves and Dean drives the Impala into the garage. He pulls out the tools he keeps here, ones that Bobby doesn't use that he has especially for the Impala. Opening the hood, Dean bends over the engine, trying to see if he can find the cause of the rattle.

Dean looks after the Impala for a few hours, changing her oil, checking tire pressure and giving the car a once over.

"Do you enjoy this?"

Dean swears as his head catches on the hood of the Impala's engine. "Jesus Cas!"

The angel is looking at him calmly, wide blue eyes studying Dean. Dean had just been in the engine for the last fifteen minutes, so the angel could have been sitting there for a while.

Cas cocks his head, looking at Dean, who was rubbing his head angrily. "Give a guy some warning, yeah?"

"Very well," Cas says.

Dean sighs, closing the hood. "Yeah, of course I enjoy it."

"You've been doing it for the last few hours, so I would assume that you enjoy it."

Dean walks over to where he kept his rags, wiping his hands of most of the grease. "Did you get your angel business finished?"

"Yes."

"Good, good."

Dean walks into the house, with Castiel following him. "So you just winged your way back here?"

"Yes. It is our current mission to be with you when we are not needed by our superiors."

"I don't see Anna or Uriel hanging around all that often," Dean retorts.

"They are there, just unseen by your human eyes. We are angels Dean. It is more in our nature to watch and guard rather than interact."

Dean shrugs slightly, reasoning that this does sound like what angels do.

Bobby is in his office, walking around, and Dean can hear the footsteps from the living room. The older man is probably researching something, so Dean sticks his head inside.

"Do you need help with anything?" He asks.

Bobby looks up with a scowl. "Why? Do you think my eye sight's going boy?" He growls.

Dean hastily backtracks. "No, no, just if you need me to look through something, then we can get twice the work done if I help."

Bobby regards him suspiciously for another second before picking up a large tome and holding it out for Dean to pick up. "See if you can find anything in there about ancient Rome and fauns."

"As in the half goat half human people?" Bobby nods and Dean looks at the book. It's covered in dust, and the writing inside is hand written in a scrawling script. Sighing, Dean wonders when he had thought it was a good idea to volunteer to help with information.

Three hours later Bobby calls him into the office, saying that he found the relevant info. Dean dumps the half read tome onto the older hunters desk and swallows Pamela's leaves, watching Cas as he squints in confusion at the TV, which is on mute.

Crawling underneath the covers, Dean closes his eyes and asks for a dreamless sleep.

The drive to the Roadhouse takes just over five hours.

It definitely isn't one of Dean's worst drives, since he can go flat out along the highway, avoiding cops and Cas's reproaching glances.

As they're pulling up into the parking lot, Dean looks over the rusty and worn down trucks, utes and cars that occupy the majority of the parking lot. After seven Ellen ushers any civilians out of the bar, and the hunters are free to talk about whatever they wish, however loudly they wish, and not have to worry that some well-meaning stranger calling the police on the crazy guy talking about monsters at the bar.

It's only three when they get there though, so that leaves four hours until the bar becomes hunter friendly.

"So you can't tell anyone that you're not human okay? I don't need someone deciding to try and kill you, and I don't need my cover blown. There aren't that many people who know that I work for the state now, and those that do aren't gonna give me any crap about it, but someone in there might. And it helps to have a person who everyone thinks is just a normal hunter like them. Nobody speaks to the feds, even if the feds know about the supernatural. It's ingrained into us. So behave like a normal human, okay?"

Cas looks vaguely puzzled, like he can't imagine how a normal human looks or moves. Dean suppresses the frustration he's feeling and gets out of the Impala. He digs around in one of his duffels for one of his most hunter looking shirts, as he is already wearing threadbare jeans. Pulling two layers of plaid out, Dean yanks his shirt off and puts another on, having the plaid go over the top. Lastly he tugs on his leather jacket, and turns to see Cas watching him.

"You need to lose the suit Cas," Dean tells the angel. "No one's going to take you seriously looking like that."

Cas frowns down at what he's wearing, and then before Dean can blink, Cas is wearing an exact replica of what Dean is. "No, you can't wear the same stuff as me!" Dean tells the angel in exasperation. "Vary the colours, change the jacket or something."

Cas frowns again, and the jeans darken to an almost black, his shirt turning tight and white, one of the plaid layers disappearing and the other turning the exact colour of Cas's eyes. Not that Dean knows what colour Cas's eyes are. The leather jacket melts down into a tightly fitting black leather jacket, and his shoes turn to sneakers.

"Is this acceptable?" The angel asks.

"Well," Dean chokes out. The angel tilts his head to the side. Dean pretends he's running his eyes over Cas's body just because he wants to make sure the outfit is okay. "That'll be fine," he says, voice slightly raw, ignoring the slight churn of his gut. "Come on." Dean brushes past Cas, arm catching slightly on the shorter man's, and Dean can't even bring himself to think that it's not an accident.

He catches Ellen's eye as soon as he walks in, and he moves towards a booth. She comes over, apparently to give them menus, but immediately narrows her eyes at Cas.

"Is this the angel?" She asks Dean lowly, eyes never leaving Cas.

"Yeah. Ellen, this is Castiel. Cas, this is my foster mother, Ellen."

Cas nods, and offers his hand. Ellen shakes it slowly, still eyeing Cas like he'll bite her. "Bobby called, told me everything you told him 'bout them," Ellen says, pointing at Cas with her thumb. "You got yourself in a spot of trouble there Dean."

Dean nods. "Yeah, well we're just dropping by to say hello. I've gotta leave tomorrow, to get back to Phoenix before Rufus chew me up for taking too long visiting you guys. Is Bill around? Has Jo dropped by yet?"

Ellen nods. "You just missed her. She left this morning, saying the same thing about Rufus that you just did. Bill is out back, just going over our supplies, making the shopping list for the week. You need a place to crash?"

"Yeah, is the guest room empty?"

"Yep, nobody's been in there for a bit, so you got the place to yourself."

"Cool, can we get some lunch?"

"Angel boy eats?"

"I suspect that it would appear peculiar if Dean was the only one eating, and yet I was sitting here with him."

Ellen looks at Cas. "That it might. Just the usual then? For both of you?"

Dean nods and Ellen walks back towards the bar.

Dean takes the time to start talking to Cas, pointing out everything in the bar he could think of that the angel wouldn't know of, including human behaviour. Ellen brings them the burgers, and Dean is still talking to Cas, the angel just sitting there and soaking the information up. In return, Cas told Dean about the time he had witnessed the first few seconds of a supernova of a star, and about some of his friends. He talked about angels that Dean knew, like Uriel and Balthazar, but also of ones that he hadn't, like Rachel and Hestor. Not very angelic sounding names, but Cas assured Dean that he had said the right thing.

Before Dean knew it, it was seven o'clock, and Ellen is announcing that she is closing for everyone but the special customers. A few families and couples walk out, and the hunters wait all of thirty seconds after Ellen had put the closed sign on the door to start talking about the supernatural.

"They seem very enthused," Cas observes, looking around the bar.

"Yeah well most of them work alone, and this is the only time they can relax, put their guard down and talk about whatever they want, with people who know what they do and what they're gone through on the job. Most of them are only here for a night or two, so they want to get out all of the talking that they can before heading off to their next hunt."

Dean watches as Ellen slides away the covering on the noticeboard. "See over there?" He asks Cas, pointing towards the board that several hunters were making their way over to. "Bobby scans for hunts, and gives the info to Ellen, who puts the minimum information on the board. If they see something they want to take on, you take down the paper that is advertising that hunt, and you go and see Bill, who has all the information collated. He then gives you the full packet that they have, and you take it, go and gank the son of a bitch, and you don't have to look for a hunt yourself. It's good, because if you catch wind of another hunt while you're on one, you call up Bill and tell him about it, he looks into it and puts it up on the board, where someone else can take it. You can finish your job knowing that someone else is taking care of the other one. Charlie even calls up sometimes, giving jobs when she has no one left at the office and she's found something."

"It sounds like a convenient system."

"Yeah, it is. It also drums us business here, since hunters know they can come and get another job here, as well as there being free talk and discounted alcohol."

"Is that why you have had so much alcohol?" Cas asks.

"Well I'm sleeping here, so there's no reason not to." Dean can already feel the slight light headedness and lowering of inhibitions that comes with drinking. He lets himself look over Cas more lingeringly. "You can have some if you want to," Dean offers. He tries to imagine the angel drunk, and can't help the muffled snort that he makes.

"I do not wish to consume any liquor Dean," Cas tells him.

"Whatever floats your boat," Dean says. "Look, I'm going to go and socialise a bit. You can mingle as well if you want to, but don't let anyone know that you're not human, okay?"

The angel nods, and Dean thinks it's unlikely that Cas will leave the table. He goes over to watch the pool table, and after watching two games asks to join. There's no stakes, just some fun, and Dean willingly gives himself over to the science of trying to find that exact sweet spot to hit, that place where the ball goes rolling across the green felt and sinks cleanly into the hole.

He wins two games, watches a few more, cheering on whoever's turn it is. He listens to stories, and before he knows it, it's two o'clock and Ellen is threatening, bribing, shoving and taunting everyone out of the bar. Dean's left, with Cas sitting at the bar, where he was talking to Ellen.

Dean grabs a cloth without being asked to and begins to wipe down the tables, put the chairs up so Ellen can mop the floor, wipes glasses before putting them away, organises the bottles and puts the stoppers back in, making sure they were all in their right spots.

He had thrown a cloth to Cas, who had determinedly set to the bar, and was scrubbing at it with a kind of focus that normally isn't put to that task. Ellen cleans all the floors while Dean stacks the very large dishwasher, and he is wiping his hands as he surveys the bar. Cas is putting the pool table to rights, fishing out all the balls and placing them in a triangle formation.

"You right Cas?" Dean asks the angel. Cas nods, and Dean says goodnight to Ellen and Bill when he passes them on the way to the guestroom, which used to be his room.

There were so many memories attached to these walls, and Dean feels safe among his childhood place, where some of his best memories had occurred.

In the morning, he waves goodbye to Ellen and Bill. He tells them to call if they need anything, even if it was just an extra hand on a hunt, and Ellen had ignored it while telling him to come by more often. Cas had stood awkwardly behind him, standing next to the passenger side door of the Impala while Dean said his goodbyes. The angel had changed back to his suit and oversized trench coat, and looks as he had before Dean had insisted he change.

Cas is there the whole way as Dean speeds back to Phoenix.


	5. The Start of the Bond

Dean is_ so fucking done _with werewolf problems.

Of course the next case Charlie pulls up is another wolf difficulty. Garth's arm still isn't healed enough to be out of a cast, and it probably will not be for another month, and then he'd have to stick to office work for another two months at least. Victor can walk on his ankle, but not far and not for long. It's going to take another month for him to be up to speed fully. Annie is resting from the shape shifter ordeal, so Dean wouldn't let her come along, no matter how much she complained or threatened. Until everyone is back up and kicking, Dean is stuck with three members down and two half teams that have to pair up.

Also, he had to deal with this shit _last month_.

Not his definition of fun.

They're in the south of New Mexico, have been for three days while they figured out where the werewolves were, if they had a plan and if they knew they're turning furry around the full moon. They'd figured out it had been an alpha couple turning others for their pack, and now there's no choice but to kill them all before anyone gets hurt.

Dean gets himself, Charlie and Ash ready to kill some werewolves. He had purposefully avoided telling Pamela about this trip, even though she probably already knows. If they'd spoken, she would have asked him to get more bits for her. He really doesn't want to know what they did with those.

They find where the werewolves would be gathering, after getting access to a security tape with footage and sound saying they would all meet up at an abandoned warehouse near the edge of town, and Dean makes sure that his teammates are prepared before leading them there. Why it's always a warehouse he'd not sure. Maybe the supernatural types are just attracted to them.

They separate inside the empty building, Charlie taking one direction, Ash the other and Dean moving straight ahead.

Remembering how Sam had the upper hand from the walkways in their last werewolf hunt, Dean looks around for a staircase so he can go up to the top, and spotting one, he runs up it for an overview of the entire room. The low moving shapes of the wolves are too fast for him to shoot without them stopping, but he can tell the others what he can see from up here.

The maze of the shelves was a pattern that Dean tries to remember as he watches his teammates and their adversaries.

"Ash, there's one coming up behind you." The invention of the walkie talkie was a gift from God.

"Dean what –" Ash's voice was cut off by the sound of a gun firing twice. "Whoa, dude, how did you know?"

"I'm up on the walkways."

"Nice idea Dean." Charlie cuts in. "Can you tell how many there are?"

"A few, eight to ten."

"Shit, it's only us."

"Don't let them surround you, and you'll be fine."

Seeing on of the werewolves stop and sniff the ground, Dean aims and fired. Without a sound it slowly slumps over on its side.

"Charlie, two coming up towards you from the front." Dean sees another one going on a predictable course, so he shoots at that one as well. He shoots again when he sees that it misses, and this time it falls.

"Well at least I'm getting some practise in,' Dean mutters.

Metal scrapes softly against metal, and Dean spun around. "Damnit."

The alpha and her mate are standing behind him, their eyes locked on Dean.

"Ah, hey guys. I wasn't the one to shoot your friends, no, not at all. I'm just going to back away now, please don't follow me or do follow me, whatever you want, I'm going to run now."

Dean times his first jump into running just as the alpha leaps at him. Ducking so she sails overhead and over the edge of the railings, Dean continues to run, shooting off rounds behind him as the werewolves continue to follow him, the only reason that they haven't caught up yet being that the twists and turns of the walkway are sharp and the walkway itself is narrow, and the werewolves are trying not to fall off.

The alpha is beneath him, jaws snapping as she jumps and tries to get back up on the walkway. Dean aims, tries for a shot that would kill her, and fires.

The yelp and thud sounds positive, and when Dean looks over the edge he sees the unmoving lump of fur that used to be the alpha.

The other werewolf chasing him lets out a few sharp yips, then a bark, and before Dean can do anything he's being tackled and pushed over the edge by an angry wolf.

For the second time in a month Dean finds himself trapped underneath the weight of a werewolf_. I really have to stop doing this_, he thinks as he stabs upwards with the silver short sword that he manages to get out. The male werewolf whines and rolls off him. Dean grunts as he stands. _I'm gonna feel that tomorrow._

The werewolf charges him, and Dean slashes at it with the sword, his gun lost in the fall somewhere.

Getting a shallow wound along the side, the werewolf spins and growls at him, charging again. Dodging out of the way, Dean tries to look for an opening so he can stick the sword in its heart.

The eyes of the werewolf shine with unrestrained animal ferocity, and he launches himself at Dean before Dean can throw himself out of the way. Its claws drag through his upper left arm, and Dean yanks his body out of the path of the massive ball of furry hate. Shooting the female werewolf had probably been a bad idea. Their mates are notoriously protective, and now this werewolf is _mad_. Dean hears another three gunshots, and assumes that Charlie or Ash just dropped another one.

Ducking under another leap by the wolf is hard work, and Dean's fighting arm is torn to shreds. Hoping that one of his other team members would come and help is a sucky back-up plan, so he switches his sword to his left hand and aims for a throw.

The mark is off, only getting the werewolf's shoulder and making him, if possible, madder than he had been. Dean can't dodge the next set of claws that swipe towards his belly, and being disembowelled is not fun at all.

Falling down on his back, Dean closes his eyes, thinking, _well this is how it ends_, when suddenly there's a whimper and a thud, accompanied by several more thuds and the ceasing of gunfire.

Opening one of his eyes a crack to see why he isn't dead yet, he looks into ocean blue eyes hovering above him. Figures.

"Can't even let me die in peace, will ya?" Dean manages to croak out. Cas looks offended for a second.

"You are not going to die here Dean," the angel states, as if it's the most certain thing in the world.

Dean's about to croak out something about he _is_ going to die if he doesn't have a miracle here when he realises _angel_. Cas places his hand on his upper arm, and nothing happens for a second while Cas furrows his brow in concentration.

Dean isn't ready for the white-hot burn of Cas's hand against his skin. He cries out, tries to move away, but instead feels himself frozen in place, with nothing he can do. Fire races down his spine to his injuries and he vaguely feels the uncomfortable sensation of his flesh knitting back together in under a second but all of his focus is on the brand burning itself into his shoulder.

Abruptly it's over, and Cas sits back on his heels, looking exhausted. Giving him a look that said 'don't go and get yourself killed while I'm not around,' Cas disappears with his trademark rustle of feathers.

"Dean?" Charlie shakes him awake. Dean realises he'd been unconscious. "Are you okay?" She hisses when she sees all of the blood that's soaking into Dean's shirt, but when she lifts it there was only smooth skin.

When he gets a confused look from Charlie he shrugs and pushes himself up on one elbow. "I think Cas healed me," he confesses, voice scraping roughly over his throat.

Charlie's eyes bug. "He _healed_ you?" When Dean nods her eyes, if possible, get wider. "Dean you do realise that's miracle territory right there?"

"Yeah, well, he didn't look too happy about it."

"But still," Charlie breathes. "A miracle. Holy crap Dean."

Dean rolls his eyes. "Are all the werewolves dead?"

Charlie seems to come back to herself. "Yeah. Ash is getting them all into a pile so we can burn them."

"Use some of these cardboard boxes as fire starters."

Charlie nods and goes to help Ash.

Dean sits up and has to plant his hands on either side of his body for support. His head spins, and he has to blink a few times to clear his vision. "Whoa. That's weird."

Sitting with his head in his hands, Dean gathers himself. He has no idea what Cas just did to him, but he's currently sitting here with his head whirling, gut churning and vision blurring.

Charlie comes back, and Dean realises he has no idea how long he had been sitting there.

"Dean? Are you okay?"

"I think I'm kinda woozy. Did you and Ash clear up all of the werewolves?"

"Yeah, they're burning. We have to leave before someone shows up Dean."

"I don't think I can stand up."

Charlie grabs his arm and hauls him up. "Stop being a wuss. Come on."

Dean staggers, leaning on Charlie heavily, and she shoots him a concerned look. "I have no idea what Cas did to me, but I am out of it, seriously. It's like that time I got drunk and someone convinced me to smoke a few joints as well. It's an experience so bad that no matter what state I'm in I'll refuse to do it."

"Ah, off topic rambling, check. Are you sure you didn't just bash your head on the fall?"

"Yeah, I didn't."

"Because that's not confusing," Charlie mutters.

Ash is standing in front of the fire, looking at his watch and watching for the two of them. "Guys, what's taking… Dean? Ah, crap is that your blood?"

"Yeah. Don't worry, Cas patched me up."

"Patched… You mean he healed you?" Ash exclaims disbelievingly. "Dude, that's some hard core stuff."

"My reaction exactly," Charlie grunts. "Here, you help Dean. He's heavy."

Ash takes Dean, and helps him to the car. Dean feels wet stickiness against his cheek, and realises that Ash is bleeding.

"Ash, you hurt?" He mumbles. "You're bleeding all over me."

Ash grimaces. "Yeah, one of them got their claws in me before Charlie shot it."

Charlie drives the Impala back to where they're staying, and Dean tries to look more drunk than about to faint of blood loss. It seems to work since the person sitting behind the front desk doesn't give them a second look.

Charlie retrieves her first-aid supplies from her room and brings them back to where Ash and Dean are staying. Dean watches through lowered eyelids as she stitches Ash's chest up. "Lucky it missed your anti-possession tattoo," she remarks, tapping the tattoo on Ash's left side, just underneath where the werewolf's claws had tracked through him.

"Yeah, lucky." Dean shivers and his hand goes to his tattoo quickly, his hand resting over his heart so he can feel the smooth skin through his shirt.

Pouring disinfectant over the wound, Ash retreats to his bed where he lays down and is snoring after a minute. Charlie comes up to Dean, hovering over him. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah," Dean sighs. "I think I just need to sleep this off. You didn't get any injuries did you?"

Charlie shakes her head. "Okay then, go to sleep. Come round in the morning, we can do a debrief, and get our asses back home."

Charlie doesn't look happy, but Dean gives her his best 'obey I am your leader' look, and she raises her eyebrows before walking around the room to check the wards, and locks the door when she leaves.

Dean sighs and gives in to the exhaustion lining his bones.

The sunlight pouring through the uncurtained window wakes him.

It's a rather foreign feeling. His dreams usually wake him a while before the sun rises, and for work he has to get up before dawn. Ash is still snoring on the bed next to him, and hasn't moved since Dean last saw him.

Checking the time, Dean startles when he realises that it's after eight. Charlie must be awake by now, but he's not sure why she hasn't come and woken them up.

Standing and stretching, Dean marvels at the fact that this is the best he's felt in a long time. He can't really put his finger on why exactly, until he realises something.

He isn't tired.

The bone weariness, eye scratchiness, dull headaches that had slowly become the norm over the last month are gone. He feels like his dreams had never become something that had plagued him, never kept him up so he went to work without sleep. He feels as though those four months with Alastair had never happened, and he's still young and innocent to the realities of the world, even though he styled himself knowledgeable.

It's something he hasn't experienced in a while, so of course it disorientates him at first. Standing up, he heads into the bathroom, where he decides to brush his teeth before getting into the shower.

Spitting into the sink, Dean frowns, trying to put his finger on the one thing that was ruining the best morning he'd had in a while. It took him a few seconds to narrow it down to his left shoulder. It takes him a few more seconds to remember that that was where Cas touched him to heal him.

Apprehensively, Dean brings his hand up and lifts the sleeve of his shirt.

When the hand shaped burn is revealed, he can't say he's all that surprised.

He stares at the brand, and knows instinctively that the outline of the handprint would fit Castiel's perfectly. Touching the brand feels like touching a burn, even though by itself it does not hurt, and Dean narrows his eyes at it. He doesn't know what it means, but when he shows the others, if they make one _Touched by an_ _Angel_ joke he's going to make them regret it.

Lowering his sleeve back over his shoulder gingerly, Dean lets out a breath of relief when it doesn't start protesting, but after a while it starts up the low discontented hum that it had before.

Letting the cool water of the shower run over it is nice, and Dean stands with his head under the water, allowing it to stream over him, washing away the blood, dirt and filth from the hunt and leaving him feeling brand new.

After he dries himself, he creeps out past the still snoring Ash and knocks softly on the door of Charlie's room. When there's no answer, Dean checks outside for the Impala. When he sees that she's gone he shakes his head.

"Let a girl near her once and she thinks that she can take her out for a spin whenever she pleases."

Making sure that he had some cash in his back pocket, Dean starts walking down to the nearest diner. It's probably where Charlie is, and he's starving for some food.

It takes him fifteen minutes to get there, and he sees Charlie in the window.

Hearing he chime of the bell as he enters the small restaurant, Dean crosses to sit opposite Charlie. The red haired woman looks up and seems surprised to see Dean.

"Did you walk all the way here?"

"Well someone stole my car, so what choice did I have?" Dean looks pointedly at Charlie before she sighs and hands the keys over.

"Sorry. I just didn't want to disturb you from sleeping, and I still had the keys and I was hungry."

"Yeah, well, don't do it again."

Charlie only had a cup of coffee in front of her, and when the waitress comes over to ask if they want any food, Dean and Charlie give her identical charming smiles.

"Yeah, some eggs and bacon if you have them, as well as some coffee, black?" The waitress nods and scribbles something down on her notebook. Her smile is much more real as she listens to Charlie and writes down a jam toast order.

"Dude she is so going to give you her number," Dean says. He thinks of stuttering sentences and brown hair and nervous smiles and wonders if he should give Charlie another number.

Charlie smiles. "Maybe."

Dean gets his meal and is half way through it before Charlie can finish one of her pieces of toast. "I am so hungry, and I have no idea why."

"Maybe it was Cas healing you. It probably used up what calories you had stored up, so you're body wants food to replenish them."

Dean snorts. "I don't care about the science behind it, I'm just glad he saved my ass. Oh, and remind me to tell you something later, when we're somewhere more private."

Charlie looks at him questioningly, but lets it lie. They eat their food in silence, Dean watching the other people in the bar, observing their lives. When the waitress comes, Dean grabs the tray and lifts the bill.

_For the pretty lady. _

There was a number underneath it, and Dean waves the piece of paper triumphantly in Charlie's face. "Told you she'd give you her number."

Charlie grabs the paper and puts the number into her phone, grinning at Dean when he tries to grab it back off her.

"Are you gonna call?"

"If we stick around for another day," Charlie shrugs, finishing her toast.

"Mine," Dean says as they walk out towards the Impala and opens the Impala's door with one hand. Charlie sighs but throws the keys to him, and Dean grins at the feel of the rumbling of his baby's engine. It only takes a few minutes to drive back to the motel, and Ash is up and on the computer when they get back. Dean throws a paper bag with a few hash browns in it at him.

"Thanks man. I was wondering where you two crazy kids had gone off to."

"Ash we're _older_ than you."

"In years, maybe. But I will always have the," Ash takes a bite out of one of his hash browns and continues around a mouthful of potato. "Superior mind."

Dean rolls his eyes and Charlie snorts. "Hey, what was that thing you wanted to show me before? When you said we were in a public place?"

"Oh yeah." Now that the moment had come for Dean to show them the handprint he's strangely reluctant. It seems private, or something. Shaking the thought out of his head, Dean lifts his shirt sleeve to show Ash and Charlie the handprint.

Ash nearly chokes on the mouth full of potato he was swallowing, and Charlie's eyes widen before her face goes carefully blank. It was an expression Dean could recognise because he used it so often himself.

"Is that where Castiel touched you when he healed you?" She asks.

Dean nods, fighting the urge to run his fingers around the edge of the mark, to trace it lightly.

Charlie licks her lips. "Well I'm not sure what to say. What did he say about it?"

"I only noticed it this morning, and I haven't seen him since last night when he healed me. So I don't know."

Ash is silent in the background, still staring at the mark when Charlie speaks. "What does it mean Dean?"

Dean shakes his head, covering the burn again. "I don't know Charlie. I don't know."

Because they had gotten rid of the werewolf pack so quickly, Dean tells the other two they're going to stay in town for another day, looking meaningfully at Charlie, who sighs dramatically but leaves with her phone in her hand. Ash says that he's going to get some more sleep, and Dean isn't sure how Ash can sleep any more, but he manages, his snores filling the room.

Dean spends some time not really doing anything in particular on the laptop, surfing some news sites and answering his emails. He revels in the feeling of being awake, and leaving Ash to his dreams, walks outside. Breathing in the air, he starts walking. It's lunchtime and he's feeling hungrybefore he stops. Half of the stores have Christmas lights in them, and the other half are still stuck on Halloween decorations, even though they're only halfway through November. Dean shakes his head at both of them, thinking that one is too early and one is too late. He had brought his wallet, so decides to do a little early shopping. He doesn't find much, a fancy type of crossbow bolt for Annie's collection, and some new high tech looking headphones for Charlie and Ash. Charlie had told him once that you could never have too many headphones, and so Dean was taking that information and running with it. Hopefully they would like them for Christmas.

As he walks around he picks up any brochures that had to do with babies, children or pregnancy. Thinking he would send them all to Jess, he tucks them into a pocket, ignoring the strange looks he's getting from some people. He grabs some lunch, and sits down for twenty minutes to eat, watching the life move around him.

It's after two by the time that Dean makes it back to the hotel room. Charlie isn't back and Ash had left, probably to find something to do now that it was physically impossible for him to sleep anymore.

Dean spends the afternoon cleaning the weapons and wondering if Charlie's girl would be up for a quickie with a stranger or if she wants something more. Thinking that people who worked in diners would expect for their patrons to just be passing through, Dean thinks that Charlie has a good chance of getting laid.

When she doesn't come in that night, and Dean gets a text saying she'd see him in the morning, he smiles slightly.

Keeping her word, Charlie and Ash are ready to go in the morning. Dean had dreamt, he knew that much from his headache and churning gut, but he takes the blessings as they come, since he couldn't remember anything from them today.

Getting in the driver's side, Dean turns over the engine and waits until he hears both doors close before pressing his foot down on the accelerator and driving out of the car park, heading for Phoenix.

There's a mountain of paperwork on his desk.

Dean is wondering if it's possible to drown in it. If it is, then he's doomed.

Cas is looking out the window, and has been all morning. It's starting to get on Dean's nerves, and he's trying to ignore it, but it's just really hard when you look up and there is a person standing exactly where they had been standing ten minutes ago. It feels like time is standing still, and all of the paperwork that's piled up on Dean's desk after the werewolf pack that he hadn't done yet is not making this day go any faster.

Deciding to take a break from the millions of forms that he had to fill out, Dean stands and wanders over to Cas, standing next to him just so that he can brush his arm against Cas if he wants to.

The entire wall on this side is a window, to make it easier for the view and the sunlight to come through. Charlie's trying to get curtains to cover up the glare in the afternoons, but Dean is sure that since this was basically the all of the sunlight that the team gets when they aren't on a case, cutting it off would probably be a bad idea. Rufus apparently agrees with him, since he had shot down Charlie every time she had tried to ask.

"Cas? What cha looking at?"

Cas turns his head slightly, and his eyes slide across to study Dean instead of the skyline outside.

"I am observing all of the souls that are in this city. There are many – light, dark, horrible, beautiful. Humanity fascinates me Dean. How can you all live together when fundamentally you are so different?"

"You can do that?" Dean asks, stunned. "Look at all the souls?"

"It is what I see every day, normally. An angel has ways of seeing that humans do not Dean. We can see things that only some of you can grasp. That includes your souls. Well most souls. Most are easy to understand, to comprehend, to fathom. Yours is quite a different story."

When it doesn't look like Cas is going to go on, Dean asks him to continue. "What are you talking about?"

"Your soul is rather tattered, but it somehow manages to have a light that keeps on shining, no matter what. It is very beautiful, even though it has flaws. But I cannot read your soul, and I cannot understand what you mean sometimes. You are a mystery to me Dean Winchester. I cannot look at you and _know_ you, like I do others. I cannot go through your mind, because it would be dangerous for you and I if I made a mistake and bought up the memories from which you hide. I cannot look at you and know what caused you have such a damaged soul, but yet have one that still shines so brightly. You are unknown to me Dean."

Dean has his eyebrows raised as he stares at Cas.

"Uhm," he says eloquently.

"If you wish to share what troubles you, then you may," the angel says softly.

Dean shuts off, standing up straighter. "There's nothing to talk about," he says stiffly. He would walk back to his desk, but he needs to ask Cas something.

"Cas? What happened back there? Between being disembowelled and the ridiculous searing white hot pain of you literally burning your handprint into my shoulder, I kind of missed the part where you explained everything."

Cas frowns slightly, more of a wrinkling of his brow than anything else. He moves forward and lifts the edge of Dean's shirt up before he can move away, and studies the brand before letting the sleeve fall back and leaning backwards with a small sigh.

"You most likely missed the part where I explained because I did not explain anything," he says in a complete deadpan, voice lowered somewhat.

Dean snorts. "Yeah I get that genius. This is the part where you _do_ explain."

Cas casts a look around the office. "I will, but I request that you ask somewhere more private. I do not wish to discuss this here, where anyone can hear us."

"Okay then, but you still don't have a phone," Dean tells him, wondering what Cas would want to keep private from the others in the office, and the other angels.

Cas turns to face him, eyes full of frustration. "Pray to me Dean. Simply say my name, and talk as if I was in the same room to you. I will hear."

Dean scrunches his eyes up. "It's gonna take more than that to get me to start praying Cas. I haven't prayed in a long time, and I don't intend to start now."

"This is your problem Dean," Cas says, suddenly seeming to loom over him even though he was a few inches shorter than him. There's something sparking in his eyes, and Dean suddenly feels like he should be anywhere else but here, and he has a sudden desire to crawl in a hole somewhere and hide from that piercing blue gaze that sees too much already. "You have no faith."

Dean feels the world slow around them, and Cas is still staring at him. Dean is holding his breath, his lungs beginning to burn, but Cas isn't letting up and Dean can't look away and he has no idea how long they've been standing there, just looking at each other. Cas is peeling back his layers, trying to see into the heart of him, while Dean trying to comprehend who Cas is, _what_ Cas is.

The angel looks away, and Dean takes a deep breath to ease his burning lungs. The angel returns to staring out the window, and Dean thinks that he isn't going to get anything else out of him today. Making his way back to his desk, Dean tries not to look at the angel or think about what just happened. He doesn't really succeed.

Cas keeps on glancing at him every now and again for several minutes while Dean tries to work under that gaze, refusing to look up and meet it.

Eventually Cas goes back to watching the souls of the city move and flow like the waves on a beach, like the tide in its cycle.

It's Dean that finds the next hunt.

Charlie might gripe and moan, but she can't fault him for this. It's in one of his many papers, and she blusters for a minute, checking her computer resources, seeing what he had already found.

She frowns as she watches Dean smirk slightly, looking over all his research on the wall of his apartment. He can't move it to the office since it isn't on a board, and he couldn't have constructed it at the office, because with the first hint of something going up Charlie would have pounced on it, and Dean had probably wanted to try and prove something, that his many subscriptions aren't for nothing. Just because she hadn't picked it up yet didn't mean that she wouldn't have. America is a big place, and she has to trawl through all of the information it produces every day, while also putting together any patterns that it produces, and overall, she likes to think she does well.

So Charlie, Annie, Ash, Rufus and Jo are all standing in Dean's apartment, and while it might be big enough for one person, having six people in there at once is beginning to make Charlie slightly claustrophobic.

She has her laptop open in front of her, and is currently checking all of Dean's research. When her FBI credentials take too long to get into some records, she simply breaks down their firewall with a smidge of code, _not hacking _thank you very much, so she can get to what she wants a lot faster.

Within half an hour of being at Dean's flat, she has all the necessary double checks done, and she nods to herself as she gives Dean's points for finding this one before her. It's slightly off putting even so.

It's been a while since Charlie hunted down her last vampire.

"Yep, it's all real info, I've checked."

Dean rolls his eyes. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"I have complete faith in you Dean," Charlie says. "I just thought it would be wise to double check everything, since we have someone doing it anyway back at the office."

"Charlie's right Winchester. But you did good here. Not just anyone would have picked up this pattern."

Dean smiles for half a second at Rufus's praise. Charlie puts her laptop away, now that all the tech stuff was out of the way. She probably wouldn't participate in this hunt, so she would let the people whose speciality it is to organise the logistics of it.

Walking into the kitchen, she opens a cupboard to find a glass so she can have a drink of water. She frowns as she finds three empty bottles of whiskey and two empty glass bottles that don't have any labels, but also smell of alcohol when she sniffs them. There are four unopened bottles and one open one that's nearly half gone.

Opening another cupboard she finds a number of shot glasses that look like they're more frequently used than the slightly dusty proper glasses behind them.

Charlie rinses one out and fills it before placing it on the counter and continuing with her snooping. The ice in the freezer is gone, and new ones are setting in the ice cube maker. There's hardly any food in the fridge, freezer or pantry. But wherever she looks she can find a full or conspicuously empty bottle, tucked away in a corner or hiding behind an appliance.

It's enough to make her stomach turn, and Charlie wonders for how long Dean has been trying to drown himself in a bottle. None of those she found had dust on them.

Picking up her drink she winds her way into the living room, just to see Cas appear behind Dean. Dean is looking at the map that he had on the wall and following the paths and highways with his eyes. Charlie catches the 'Hello Dean', and it makes her smile slightly. The others are gone, probably to go and prepare for the hunt, and Charlie watches silently in the shadow of the door as the angel and human interact.

Dean jumps and spins around, saying something she can't hear. Deciding not to focus on the conversation, she watches their body language instead. She watches how this is the most relaxed and informal she had ever seen any of the angels, let alone Castiel, who was the poster boy for following the rules. She watches as Dean completely misses her, something that he would normally never do. She watches them both lean in slightly, watches Dean's eyes flick down to Castiel's lips and thinks _Oh Dean you got it bad._

She knows that something happened to Dean regarding his sexuality. She knows that it's not her place to pry, but seeing her friend put in the position where he clearly wants something but cannot physically make himself do it would wear on anyone's nerves.

She wonders what it was. Maybe someone touched him without his consent. Maybe he was brought up in a place where difference wasn't tolerated. Maybe he had a parent who wouldn't accept anyone or anything different.

Yes, that's probably it, she thinks. She's heard Dean talk about his mother, often in stilted sentences and almost never outside when they were alone and he was drunk. How she died when he was four, and how he had to protect his brother from there on out.

Charlie's never heard him say one word about his father.

When she had seen Sam's email address on an email Dean was sending, she had committed it to memory and had emailed Sam herself later that night, telling him that it was her. Since they knew each other from the crazy time when Dean had been missing, he responded almost right away. A few weeks of sending emails and she finally plucked up the courage to ask what went down with their father, since Dean never talks about him, only how their mother died when their house burnt down.

Sam had said that this was probably something she should talk about with Dean, but since he was emotionally constipated, he would give her a few starting points.

What she knew about John Winchester isn't enough to fill a page of writing. He had been a hunter, obsessed about Mary's death, and had always been convinced that something supernatural had been involved in it. Bobby had taken custody over the boys when Dean was 16 and Sam was 12 for a reason Sam wouldn't divulge, and he's still alive today, even though neither brother had heard from him in nearly fifteen years.

It isn't much to go on, but she can easily see him beating the knowledge into Dean that people who were different were _wrong_, and to be _hunted_, and that _you didn't want to be different_.

Watching Dean and his angel interact now, she wonders when they would get past that hurdle.

When. Not if.

They are still murmuring to each other when Charlie leaves, not even sure if the click of the door closing is enough to jolt them out of their focus on each other.

Cas can't stay for the vampire hunt, and Dean tries to ignore the disappointment that shoots through him when the angel had said that he had Heavenly duties to attend to.

Victor still can't run on his ankle, and Garth's arm is setting, but not healed enough to even come in to the office yet. He's getting the best treatment – the finest doctors that the FBI could give, and the best amulets and charms that Missouri could make, but it'd be another two months before he could come along on hunts. Charlie had been temporarily promoted to a member of the team to make up for the two missing people, and Jo had been partnered with Annie. The younger girl is beaming while the older hunter had rolled her eyes. Anna isn't here, and Dean assumes that she's doing angel stuff with Cas.

Ash is staying behind, claiming that he had been on enough hunts lately, and that he needs a break. He would take Charlie's place, researching from the office. It was a job that either of them could do, and Dean's glad that he didn't need to slog through the research needed, if there is any needed. They knew all they needed to take down a group of vamps, and Dean had just re-stocked the Impala with dead man's blood and plenty of hatchets.

Taking place in Durango, Colorado, the trip wasn't a long one, and Dean had argued for driving over flying, even if Charlie and Jo would have preferred taking a plane. It was only a seven hour drive, and Dean's refusal to get on a plane twice in a month had cinched the deal, even in the face of Jo's protest that their bosses would pay for the flight.

As soon as they arrive, Dean puts Jo in charge of getting them all somewhere to stay, and Charlie in charge of finding them some place to eat. There's a diner that isn't too run down near where they're motel is, plus they have large tables and few customers. Annie goes and sits on a different table to Dean and Charlie, and when Jo comes back with three keys in her hand she goes over to where Annie is, not even looking in the direction of Charlie and Dean.

"She's getting better at this stuff," Charlie remarks.

"Yeah, I remember when I first brought her in. She was so intimidated by the city, the big buildings and the sharply dressed people. You could see how uncomfortable she was. I was afraid that I would have to send her back to Nebraska, and Ellen would tell me off for getting her hopes up. I do admit that that was the thing I was most afraid of in that situation." Dean smiles, thinking about six months earlier when Jo had joined the team. "She's nearly ready to go now, isn't she? And when she comes back, she'll be a full member of the team."

"And you can have a permanent partner at last, instead of just me," Charlie leans forward. "You'll stop dragging me out on these ridiculous outings and I can sit at my computer in peace."

"You wouldn't have it any other way," Dean teases.

Charlie sniffs delicately, turning her nose up slightly. "Maybe. When is Jo going anyway?"

"This'll be her last hunt as a junior member of the party. You can turn up any time during November, but as soon as December starts they want you all there."

"That's only a week away though," Charlie says in surprise.

"Exactly. She's been putting it off for as long as she could. I think I might have scared her a little with all my stories."

"Well it is gruelling, but I don't doubt she can get through it, with flying colours even."

"Exactly what I'm thinking. She's gonna knock the competition out of the water."

Charlie nods, and then seems to recall that they're on a case here. "Vampires. I haven't done any beheading in a while."

"Me neither," Dean says, looking out the window. "I'm not out of practise though."

Charlie rolls her eyes. "You probably have a dummy you can behead sitting at your house, where you can just put the head back on once you chop it off."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"_You're_ the one that's all gung-ho about this," Charlie shrugs.

"That doesn't mean that I have a dummy that I cut the head off at home!"

Charlie looks doubtful, but she lets the subject drop. "So this is going to be the next town hit, right? They frequent bars, and take intoxicated people?"

Dean nods. "Yeah. There are two bars that they could go to in this town, so we split up. I don't like it, but we don't have any choice. One of us will play bait, while the other watches and calls the others if their partner gets taken. They follow them back to the nest, and we take them all out."

"Whoever is playing bait is going to be in the most danger."

"Exactly. Which is why I'm going to be the one doing it."

"Don't be stupid, I'll be the one to do it."

"There's no question of who's going to do it Charlie."

"Yes, there is," Charlie protests. "Look, I'm not a full time hunter like you. If you get captured, there's no way I can take more than one vampire at a time. But if I get captured, then you can and will swoop in and rescue me. That plus the fact that you're going to have to bath in alcohol to get yourself smelling drunk, since your tolerance levels are ridiculously high. So I'm going to be the one to do it."

Dean scowls, but he can't rebut any of her arguments. "I don't like it," he says.

Charlie grins, knowing that she's convinced him. "You don't have to like it, you just have to get in there before they start sucking me dry."

Dean grumbles but agrees very reluctantly. Jo is going to play bait at the other club, and Dean isn't happy about that either, but she puts forward basically the same arguments as Charlie. So similar in fact, that Dean is wondering if they had conspired together to be the ones baiting the vampires. He wouldn't put it past them.

They have time to kill before the darkness falls, and Dean spends the time looking for a decent phone for Cas. The angel _still_ doesn't have one, and Dean is _not_ going to start praying, so he needs one. It takes a few hours, but Dean finally finds one with a plan for a year with enough texting and call time on it that he thinks Cas won't use it all.

It costs a few hundred dollars, but Dean just puts it on his company credit card. If anyone asks about it, he can say he was buying something for the angels, and no one would ask any more questions.

He trails Charlie around after that, following her wherever she wants to shop. They end up just wondering around the shopping area, talking. Dean asks if she got lucky with the waiter.

"Yeah I did, but… I don't know. I think I want something more long term now, you know? But they'd all just ask what you do, I mean that's one of the first questions you ask someone when you meet them, and what do I say? I work with the FBI and can't talk about my job? Do you know how dodgy that sounds?"

Dean did know, and that was one of the reasons that he stayed away from getting to know anyone who isn't in the know about the hunting life at least.

"I think I could solve some of your problems," Dean tells her, and Charlie rounds on him.

"Have you been keeping someone from me? You better not have been keeping someone from me."

"Ah, I was just getting to know her a little bit. I do know that she has a crush on you, so that should give you an opening."

Dean steals Charlie's phone and inputs Lara's number into it. Charlie looks at the number for a while.

"Where does she work?" She asks.

"In IT, just general info about all the cases and paperwork that runs through the building."

Charlie nods absently. "Okay, I'll call her. Although I would appreciate it if you told her I had her number before I call her."

Dean smiles. "I can do that."

After that they spend a ridiculous amount of time in a gaming shop that Charlie spots, and Dean can only drag Charlie away after he reminds her they have to work. Charlie shoots him a dirty look but she wraps things up, giving the people behind the counter her email and phone number, and telling them that she would email them about her next LARPing session.

"I was having fun talking to them!" She protests after they leave.

"It's after dark Charlie. We should have been in place half an hour ago."

Charlie scowls at the sky, like it's personally offended her.

They get to the club, and Charlie spends another ten minutes drinking out of a vodka bottle and making herself look trashed but also pretty at the same time.

As soon as she's done, Dean helps her into the club, before spraying her with a mist bottle full of whiskey. "That'll make you smell like you have taste," he says. "Now remember to be careful, okay?"

Charlie huffs. "As long as you remember to not pick anyone up we'll be fine."

"I don't confuse work and play, unlike some people."

"Hey! I was just talking to them."

"And now we're late, come on."

They walk into the bar, and Dean gets his phone out, ready to send or receive the text saying that Jo had been taken, and to send one to Annie if the vamps caught Charlie.

He has to watch the rest of the crowd as well as Charlie, in case she isn't taken but another person is. Charlie is watching as well, and they have signals to tell each other if they see anything.

Around eleven, Charlie is approached by a man and a woman. She's made sure to be the life of the party, buying rounds of drinks, making sure everyone knows she's tipsy, dancing with anyone who wanted to, and basically getting people's attention. Dean focuses on his friend and the people who had approached her. Charlie flicks her fingers, and that's the signal for the vampires.

Dean sends the text to Annie, but it's a fifteen minute drive from where they are to here, so the clock is ticking. Charlie knows she has to stall them for as long as possible without losing their interest, but it's only five minutes later that she starts to follow them outside. Dean swears and walks out after them, making it look like he is just leaving, not going after them. There's a black hummer in the parking lot, and Dean's not surprised when they lead her towards it.

He touches the sword under his jacket for reassurance as he gets in the Impala, then calls Annie and puts the phone on speaker on the dash so he can drive without worrying about it.

"Black hummer, going up Main Avenue. Where are you?" Dean asks, looking for Ash's truck.

It occurs to him that their vehicles aren't the most inconspicuous ones out there. Maybe Charlie had a point with her suburban car, nice and common.

"Just getting there, which way are you headed?" Annie's voice comes through the phone.

"Towards you," Dean replies.

Dean hears the rev of the engine through the phone, and knows that Annie is probably breaking he speed limit by a considerable amount right now.

It takes another five minutes, but Dean keeps giving directions through the phone and eventually he can see the headlights of the truck in his rear view mirror. They're reaching the outskirts of the city, and it's probably becoming obvious to the drivers of the hummers that they're being followed.

Dean swerves into another street and then listens to Annie's directions as she takes over following them. Another few minutes and then he's taking over again, just in time to see the hummer drive down an off road.

"I see where they're turning off," Dean says through the phone. Annie comes up behind him, and she and Jo get out of the car.

"Down there," he says, pointing towards the dark track, winding its way between the trees.

"Don't you love it when they conform to the stereotypes," Jo says cheerfully.

"Have both of you got your weapons and dead man's blood?" Jo and Annie nod.

"It's probably only a short walk, and they'd hear the car. We need to go in by foot."

They spend the next ten minutes quickly walking down the track, and Dean has to fight down the urge to sprint, so he can save Charlie from whatever the vampires are doing to her. But he knows that she can take care of herself, so he conserves his energy for the fight.

They come across a barn, and Dean motions for Jo and Annie to take the front while he goes in the back.

"I'll untie Charlie, you keep them occupied," he whispers.

Annie and Jo go around to the front, and Dean runs quietly to the back. Picking the lock on the door, he hears the sounds of fighting. Wriggling faster, he breaks it open, and comes in to a melee. Charlie is trying to wriggle out of her bonds, and Dean runs over to slice them off, and gives her his spare machete. She takes it with a grin and lops a vampires head off happily from behind.

Dean lets loose, lets himself drown in the feeling of the fight, cutting off heads, throwing darts to paralyse some vampires, and using gravity and momentum to knock others over.

Dean's not sure how long it takes, but eventually he's panting in a river of blood, decapitated bodies all around him. He's blood splattered and sticky. Looking around, he sees that the others aren't that much better. Charlie looks like she'd bathed in it, Annie wiping it off her sword and Jo checking that none of them were still alive.

It takes little time for them to soak the place in gasoline and set it alight. They watch the place burn for a few minutes to make sure that it's not going to spread, but it's the middle of winter and the woods around them are soaked from the storm a few days ago.

They decide to sleep for the next few hours, and Dean checks them out of the hotel in the morning, half listening to the people in the lobby talking about the mysterious blazing up of the Gregor's old barn.

Annie had already taken over the 'investigation,' and it wasn't long before she had the local police closing the case, on FBI orders. They all looked a bit suspicious, but as long as nobody found the remnants of the fifteen human skeletons in the remains of the barn, they were golden.

Since Annie is taking Jo through the clean-up, Dean and Charlie hover around for a few hours until they're done, and the remains are being shipped to their mortuary in Phoenix, who are used to getting extremely suspicious bodies from the SPN unit to cremate.

As soon as they get back, Rufus hands them the paperwork, and they all groan simultaneously, but sit down to fill them out. Dean's just glad that no one was hurt.

He hurries through his forms, and by the time he's finished he's not sure if Lara will still be in the building, but he goes down to IT to try.

She is there, but it looks like she's getting ready to leave.

"Dean!" She says. "Hi, hello, why are you here so late?"

"I gave your number to Charlie," Dean tells her. She looks petrified for about four seconds, and then she rushes forward to hug him.

"Thank you thank you thank you!" She squeals. "Wait, I'm sorry, I shouldn't hug you without asking, oh my god."

"It's fine Lara, don't worry about it."

"Oh my god, what if she doesn't call? What if I stutter? What if she doesn't like me?"

"She'll like you, don't worry. Just tell her that you want to go and talk over coffee, and the rest will work out, I'm sure."

Lara gulps nervously then runs her fingers through her hair. "If you say so."

"I do. But I have to go home now, are you coming?"

Lara quickly packs up her things and rides down the elevator with him. They part at the parking lot, Dean waving goodbye.

He doesn't sleep that night.

Jo leaves that weekend.

Dean wishes her well, along with all the others, and feels like he's waving goodbye to a part of his life. He's the one who got Jo accepted into this program, he's the one that gave her the opportunity to shine like they all knew she could, and know she was going off to training. Anna slides into the cab beside her, looking angely, like usual.

Cas is standing next to Dean, almost close enough for their arms to brush together. Dean almost wants to do that, but instead he takes a small step away from the angel. Cas glances at him questionably and Dean shrugs.

Dean tells Charlie about Lara when he gets a spare moment, and she nods, hand sliding into her pocket to play with her phone.

"She's great, just call her for coffee."

Charlie nods slowly, looking into the distance.

There's a night for drinks and celebration, which Garth and Ash take as permission to get ridiculously drunk. Dean drinks as much as they do, and only gets slightly tipsy, a fact that nobody except Charlie and Cas notices. Charlie frowns at him, but Dean gives her a look, a 'what can you do?' Even though Cas healed him of the symptoms of not having enough sleep for a month, he can't cure the source, and his dreams are still continuing. Dean copes as much as he can, and having a few in the middle of the night to calm his nerves has become a part of his life now.

Cas just looks at him and asks if he values his liver at all.

"I figure I'm gonna die before I'm forty anyway, so why plan for the future?" Dean slurs as he leans slightly on the angel, an hour after everyone else has left. Cas hails a cab and climbs in after him, giving the driver a fifty, telling him Dean's address and to keep the change. The driver nods in respect for the tip, and it feels like no time has passed before they're getting out. The drive has given Dean some time to sober up a bit, and he doesn't have to lean on Cas as they make their way up the stairs. As the exercise clears his system some more, he just begins to feel tired. It's been a big day, he has to work tomorrow, and he just wants to crash.

Cas opens the door, and there must have been some sneaky mojo at work there because Dean did not leave the door unlocked and Cas doesn't have the key.

Cas helps him into his room, and Dean pulls his shirt, shoes, socks, belt and jeans off, not realising that he's doing it completely unconsciously in front of the angel until he feels Cas's gaze roaming over him. When he turns the angel's eyes are on his face, but Dean can't shake the feeling that the angel had been sneaking a peek. Well not exactly sneaking, since it had been Dean undressing in front of him, but you get the idea.

Whatever. He's drunk and not bothered enough to think that train of thought through.

Sliding under the covers, Dean looks up at Cas through half lidded eyes, fighting off a yawn, already ready to sleep, dreams be damned.

"Dean..." Castiel pauses. Hesitates, for just a second. And Dean sees it, notices how something like Cas that is usually so eloquent and assured, is stumbling over the sound of his name, over the thing that the angel is about to ask. "Can I stay here tonight?"

Now Dean would have normally drawn the line at that. Having something not human stay in his apartment while he slept? While he was drunkenly passed out? That was a no go, an absolute line, and the angel had just crossed it.

Yet Dean heard himself saying, "Sure Cas," like it's nothing, like it's perfectly normal. But Dean sees that Castiel understands the magnitude of the trust that had just been placed at his feet, and it makes Dean feel more open and exposed than he had been in a long time. "Do you want me to make up the spare bed?"

"I do not need to sleep Dean," The angel says, and Dean should have known that, I mean what supernatural creature slept, really, and _that_ was really where Dean should have said yep, no thanks, leave please, and yet he didn't. He just nods at that angel, murmurs out a 'goodnight' and pulls the covers over his head.

It shows how far he had come with the angel when he falls asleep straight away, not worried about what could happen in the night, only knowing that an angel is watching over him, just as his mother had always told him, and that he would be safe until morning.

_Blood red sharp pain screaming black darkness demons Alastair laughing in his ear you're _mine_ Dean no one else's mine mine mine mine my weapon and don't you forget – _

Dean thinks that waking up is the best and worst part of his dreams. On one hand he can tell himself that it's over, and that it's not happening to him anymore, that it's _over_. On the other, he has to face the reality _that it happened_.

"Do you experience these dreams every night?"

Dean shoots up, supporting himself on his wrists and feeling them pop. "Fucking hell Cas."

"You did invite me to stay."

Dean rubs a hand over his eyes. "Yeah, well I was drunk last night. People do stupid things when they're drunk. Do you have to wake me up by speaking to me every single time you're here?"

"I did not wake you. You were simply lying there with your eyes closed. I'm assuming that you were trying to orientate yourself after your dream."

Dean swallows. "I didn't dream."

Cas is watching him, like he knows that Dean doesn't mean that, and Dean can't look at those eyes that see everything when he's already feeling so broken and torn.

He pushes the blankets back and stretches, still feeling Cas' eyes focused on him. He brushes past Cas, just enough for the angel to grab his elbow.

"I do not know what you dream of Dean," the angel says, and Dean takes a moment to close his eyes as he feels the dizzying rush of relief go through him at the fact that Cas doesn't know, before looking at the angel.

"But if you want, if you let me in, I could possibly help."

Dean looks at the angel doubtfully, not knowing what he meant. "What, like let you inside my head?" He asks.

Cas looks down at his shoes, at the carpet, for a long second. "Yes. If your soul was not so damaged then I could do it without your permission, but having anything inside you when you don't want it to be there would most likely tear you and whoever was trying into pieces."

Dean blinks. "What do you mean… you could help?" He's too cynical to not look a gift horse in the mouth, to think that Cas could help him that easily.

"If you let me inside your mind, there will be no danger. I could look at the memory that troubles you, and I could sooth it, or block it off from your mind so you cannot remember it."

Dean shifts uncomfortably away from Cas. "Yeah, thanks but no thanks. I don't need anyone digging through my head." And even if his memories are shitty, they're still _his_. He should have all of his memories available to him. They're what make him who he is.

Cas doesn't look disappointed or upset, simply nodding. "It is your choice. Since you are already awake, do you wish to get ready for work now?"

Dean checks the time on the clock next to his bed. It's half an hour earlier than he would normally get up, and he takes a moment to turn off the alarm.

"Yeah, I guess."

Cas nods before going to sit on the couch, making no move to turn the TV on. Dean sighs softly. He had managed to get Cas to sit down now when he came over, but the angel didn't understand why Dean would be interested in watching the TV, or why he should watch it.

Dean showers and eats, offering food to Cas, who, like usual, declines.

"Come on Cas, let's go."

Charlie wipes her hands nervously against each other, looking around for Lara. Dean had said that she's brunette, short, and babbles when she's nervous. She hadn't been too bad on the phone when Charlie had called and arranged the meeting. When Lara had suggested coffee and afternoon tea at a local restaurant she knew, Charlie agreed immediately. It sounded like a nice way to get to know her, as well as seeing what food she liked.

Charlie knew that Dean wouldn't have given her Lara's number without doing a full background check on her first, so she hadn't, resisting the temptation, afraid it would ruin their relationship before it even started.

Lara had said to be here around two thirty, and it was just after twenty past. She's only wearing work gear, and has to hope that that's enough for the other woman.

Another few minutes pass, and then the building door opens. Charlie turns to look, and takes in the woman who has just left the building.

A slip of a thing, she couldn't have weighed over sixty kilos. Brown hair that's tied up in a bun, but Charlie could see that when released it would be long. She's wearing heels, tall ones, and she still doesn't come up to Charlie's height. The bones in her face are delicate and sharp, eyebrows plucked, and make up sparingly but professionally applied. She is wearing a black suit over a purple top, which complements her skin colour.

All in all, she looks hot.

Charlie smiles._ First test passed. _

"Hey," she calls, walking over. "Are you Lara?"

The girl looks up, and hot damn, those eyes are pretty, large and brown and wide. "Uh, yeah, I'm Lara. You're Charlie, right? I mean you're standing here, asking for me, and we agreed to meet here and it makes sense that you would be Charlie."

Charlie nods. Lara swallows after a pause.

"So we going to your café?"

Lara nods. "Yeah, it's run by the sister in law of a guy I used to work with. Carly makes really good food, you'll like it, I'm pretty sure."

"Sounds cool. Lead the way."

It isn't a long walk. On the way there, Charlie asks Lara how she is, and if anything's happened really in her life recently. Lara says she's good, and no. Then she asks the same questions, and Charlie says she's well. She thinks about werewolves and vampires and her crazy life.

"Just the usual work stuff. Nothing exciting."

Lara nods, but a flicker of doubt crosses her face before disappearing. "Okay. Here it is."

Charlie looks down the small street, and there's a café about half way down that she has to be talking about. It's cute and screams 'family run.'

Lara leads her in, waving to the woman behind the counter, who perks up and immediately comes over to where they're sitting, abandoning the task of wiping down the counter, which she had only been doing half heatedly anyway.

"Lara, hi! How are you doing? Who's your friend?" The woman – Carly – has her hair pinned up, and an apron covered in flour on. She smells like coffee and sugar, and her smile is warm, if cautious, as she looks at Charlie.

"Hey Carly, I'm doing well thanks. This is Charlie, she's from work."

Carly looks Charlie over again, more appraisingly. "I see." She says after a long pause. "Do you want me to get you two anything?"

"A mocha for me please."

"Same here," Charlie adds. Lara flashes her a small smile.

Carly leaves, and Charlie leans back in the booth, looking Lara over. Lara is looking right back, and Charlie hopes what she's finding satisfies her.

"So. Dean. How did you two meet?"

Lara tilts her head slightly. "I was down near Lighters, on my way to my car, and ten guys surrounded me, saying that I was going to go with them. Dean shows up, beat up five in three seconds and has the others running in ten. He looks me over, tells me I'm unharmed, and takes me back to my car. He must have recognised the number plate or the model as one of the company's cars, because he asked if I worked here. I said that I did, and he said that he worked here as well. We just bumped into each other every now and again after that, and we said hi each time. One time you were with him, but you were looking through a folder, and he must have noticed me looking, because the next time he caught me he asked me about you." She shrugs. "And about two months later he gave me your number. You called, and here we are."

Charlie frowns slightly, but wipes it off her face. _What was Dean doing near Lighters? _The only things down there are seedy bars and abandoned warehouses.

Charlie nods, putting the thought away for later. "Okay then. Just letting you know, the only things I know about you is that Dean saved you from a bunch of nasty guys and that he thinks you're safe to date me. No looking at any files, I promise."

Lara smiles slightly. "Same."

"Although Dean looked through your file, but he said you were fine, and that man goes through everything relating to someone he cares about with a comb that has a finer touch than the pixels on my computer screens, and that's saying something."

Lara blinks. "Okay then, I guess I can live with that. I suppose we can't really discuss work here, can we?"

_Or in this entire arrangement. If there's going to be an arrangement. Damn it Charlie, stay cool. _"No, not really."

"Well then. What do you do for fun?"

"I game a lot," Charlie confesses, and watches Lara's eyes light up.

"Yeah? What are we talking about here?"

_Second test passed. _


End file.
